#imagine being engaged to a man for nine years and it turns out like

[misshoneyimhome]

What I go to School For I AU Frederik Andersen Imagine

professor!Freddie x reader; au

Author's Note: Well, I stumbled upon this in my drafts and figured, why not give it a shot… I can't really offer any justification for it, though 😉

**

Focus. You had to focus.

"Alright, everyone, please turn to page 334 in your main textbook," your lecturer projected his voice across the packed lecture hall.

And you obeyed his instruction.

As you followed his presentation, replete with intricate terminology and expressions, you made a determined effort to maintain your composure.

Nearly every second, you had to remind yourself of your purpose: you were on the path to becoming an architect.

However, these classes weren't a cakewalk. Especially when you laid eyes on your new professor, there was no chance you'd make it through the day without your thoughts straying.

**

It all started during summer when you saw him for the first time.

He was the son of your father’s colleague, and you’d all been gathered for a dinner party with the office.

At this point, he was nothing but a simple stranger to you. A stranger named Freddie.

And Freddie had been utmost friendly, and when the men of the firm talked business, the two of you automatically turned to strike up a conversation, being the only “children” there; or you were the only plus ones that weren’t wives or husbands.

Initially you weren’t even supposed to be there but given that your father was divorced from your mother and had no one else to bring, he’d argued that it’d be good for you to come out to network since you were soon entering the real world completely.

And it’s not like you didn’t know any of them. You’d been at your father’s firm several times, even one summer as an intern to gain some experience for your studies and to earn some money for moving out.

And as the night wore on, you and Freddie found yourself engaging effortlessly in deep conversations about anything and everything.

You learned that he’d been studying architecture just like you (the conversation starter was rather obvious) but now he’d been searching to go in a different direction. What exactly that was he wasn’t entirely sure of yet.

Perhaps he was a few years older than you. Not that you minded. You’d always been rather mature for your age and with Freddie’s calm demeanour, you couldn’t help but sink into it.

Nonetheless, you both kept talking. And talking. And talking.

Just until the managers suggested to continue somewhere else, and you saw your potential escape from your father’s company dinner. However, a part of you didn’t want to break from Freddie just yet - and to your luck, he offered to follow you home. He argued that it was dark and ‘you never know what type of people are out there’, but to be honest, he didn’t exactly need to persuade you. You’d say yes anyway; but he didn’t need to know that.

And as he walked next to you through the streets of the cold weather, your conversation kept on going. The details of it you couldn’t entirely recall, however, what had imprinted a rather vivid memory into your mind, was when you’d reached the stairs to your apartment building and were to say goodnight. And just when you’d thought the moment was over, the tall ginger slowly leaned down, and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek.

The blush of your cheek was luckily disguised by the chilly air, however, words from your mouth escaped sooner than you expected.

“Would you like to come up?”

You were slightly taken aback by your own level of confidence, but there was simply something about this man that had you intrigued.

And it’s not like you were going to see him ever again. Right?

So, when he said yes, an indescribable amount of joy filled your heart.

And as it turned out, you were high on cloud nine all night. From the moment Freddie’s lips touched yours, as you’d entered your flat, you were completely mesmerised.

His touch had a magical effect on you, and nothing could stop you from seeing stars, as his mouth massaged yours, and his tongue gently made its way passed your lips to meet yours.

It sent a shiver down your spine, as you gave into his touch, and your heartbeat only quickened as he gently placed his large hands on your buttocks, and in a swift movement lifted you to wrap your legs around his hips, then slowly carried you to your bed, and gently placed you onto your back.

You could feel the mattress shift in weight as his large body came to hover you, and his lips returned to your mouth. And when they weren’t on yours, they’d travel down to your neck and place soft kisses on your skin, his teeth lightly biting, and you could sense a sensation of sucking as well.

You were his for the night.

Your mind simply couldn’t comprehend any rational thoughts in that very moment.

Especially not when he slowly started to undress you. Careful with every button of your shirt, and only soft touches when he pulled it off along with your dress trousers.

His large figure came to stand gorgeously in the dimmed light of your room, as he stood to undress himself as well. And in only tight boxers, framing his stiff, large member, he came back onto the bed to turn his full attention back to you.

His warm mouth was back on your skin, as he placed butterfly kisses all over, while removing your lacy black underwear you’d proudly shown off.

Silence was filling the room, only broken by the soft sounds of kissing, and light moans escaping your lips, as Freddie’s fingers found their way to your heated core, already pooling and ready to embrace him.

However, Freddie was taking his time. He’d want to make you feel good, before he’d pleasure himself. And as he heard the soft moans coming from your sweet lips, he made his move to gently press a finger inside of your heat.

Your chest began to move a little faster, as your breath slowly became heavier, feeling the amaze of Freddie’s touch. And when he added a second finger, which your wet cunt easily accepted, you felt a pleasurable sensation running through your body.

His two fingers gently pumped in and out, his thumb working your sensitive bud of nerves, and slowly - painfully slowly, he increased the speed.

You could feel yourself getting closer to a release, and only with a soft, almost whispery voice you pleaded for him to keep going and let you come.

Freddie’s eyes had turned darker, and he had to focus to keep his breath under control as he watched you intensely coming through your orgasm, with your wall clenching around his fingers. And not until you let out a final deep breath, he’d take out his fingers, leaving you feeling void, yet filled with pleasure.

But the sight of you arching beneath him like that and the beautiful sounds of your moans were almost too much for him, and he let no time go to waste as he almost ripped off his boxers and came to kneel between your legs.

His cock was proudly standing, ready for action, slightly dripping with precum and he once again leaned down to connect his lips with yours.

Still under his magical spell, you felt the tip of his cock gently pressing against your entrance.

Freddie knew he had to take it slow, and it was killing him. He was large and he’d already felt just how tight you were, but he longed for nothing else than to feel himself inside of your warmth.

But he was gentle. Slowly he pushed himself further in, and the room was filled with louder moans this time.

You couldn’t hold your moans back, as you felt just how good he stretched your walls and filled your deep with his magnificent length.

And once completely inside, you could almost feel how he hit the very back. You let out a deep breath and offered him light nod, only for him to gently pull almost entirely out, and push back in; again, hitting that very same spot.

And then he did it again. And then again.

His hips rocked in perfect steady pace, and you knew you could reach another orgasm any time. He didn’t even have to do anything else but to keep moving.

And Freddie could feel how his own release was building up, and as your heat took him so well, he could only feel the need to speed up.

Moans were filling the room along with the sound of skin clapping, and your heavy breaths. Endorphins were mixed with sweaty and glittering skin, as both your minds became hazy, and the dopamine filled your brains out of pure pleasure.

Loud groans came from the large man above you, and you could sense he was getting closer as his thrust became irregular and his pounding harder.

Your hands found the sheets and held a tight grip as the knot filled your tummy and another orgasm rushed over your body, just as Freddie offered one long loud grunt, as he spilled his seed deep inside of you, and emptied himself on a high.

And what followed was only a small fraction of the wonderful memory; he’d helped you clean up, gently wiping with a damped cloth, smiles adorning both of your faces, before you’d both returned to bed, and he’d cuddled with you until you drifted off to sleep.

***

And here you were, weeks later, finding yourself in his class about the prober dimensions and proportions of a heavy architectural design.

His bright red hair was like a flame to your eyes and as his voice sounded, you could feel goosebumps on your skin and your hair rising in the back of your neck.

Only when the class was dismissed, you were caught from your thoughts.

“Please, remember to come down with your papers for the latest hand in,” his voice echoed through the room.

Fuck.

With heavy steps and acting as casual as possible you slowly walked down the steps towards the centre where he’d asked for everyone to place the papers.

With a bit of luck, you thought you’d be able to sneak pass him while he was looking down, but no, it would’ve been too easy.

And just as you placed your paper onto the deck, his brown eyes met yours in disbelief, while an ‘o’ shaped on the curve of his lips.

You tried your best to offer him a composed and friendly smile, but you could sense your inner turmoil through your veins.

The memories of your night together flashed before your eyes and you knew a tiny sparkle must have shown in your eyes, as you tried to speak his name.

“Here you go, professor… Andersen,” you almost whispered.

Freddie was left speechless.

Never had he imagined he’d see you again. Let alone as one attending his very first class.

Shit.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

The Dream - Chapter Sixteen.

Big thanks to everyone for your engagement on this, still! :) 

Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three ��Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed (note: those not engaging will be automatically removed from the tag list, FYI)

Words - 2,790

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“Dare I even believe my eyes and ears?” Keri put to David, being handed rinsed plates and cutlery she loaded into the dishwasher.  

Shaking the excess water from a large dish, his mouth upturned. “I say it’s safe to call it. I think mommy likes him.” Placing the dish into her outstretched hands, he chuckled. “I mean, god, I didn’t think I’d ever meet anyone else as obsessive over Breaking Bad as your mom is, but apparently it’s very much a common ground.”  

As soon as Angell had mentioned it over dinner, Meryl’s eyes had lit up, the two of them mostly dominating the conversation, discussing the layers of the plot, the characters, how they both considered the only redeemable characters to be either Mike or Jessie, and Angel’s theory that Walt began mimicking certain traits of the characters he killed, thus showing him as a true sociopath.  

What he didn’t reveal was that until someone had called him one, he’d had no idea what a sociopath was, checking with Google, finding that the pissed off woman he’d been having sex with very briefly was incorrect in her assertion. The term fitted Walter White wonderfully, though, he’d thought.

Meryl had listened to him with fascination, suddenly experiencing a pang of guilt that she’d assumed him to be a dead beat who hauled scrap metal around, day in, day out. She knew she could sometimes be a little judgemental, and very overprotective when it came to her only child, so thus worked hard in making an effort, even though she found that through Angel’s charming nature and ability to engage well with conversation, she truly didn’t have to.  

Her mind wasn’t one hundred percent made up, but so far, she found him to be quite likable. As for David...

“Well, little. I gotta say, I think he’s great. I like him, he's a straight up guy and seems really genuine, too. And let me tell you, you’re the apple of his goddamned eye.”

She bit her lip, looking away. “Hmm.”

“Hmm? Psht. Hmm, nothing. You’re onto something good, mark my words.” For once, she actually dared believe that she was. There he was, prepared to do the whole meet the parent's thing on only the second occasion he’d actually spent physical time with her, flying over seven hundred miles to do that, and fine with being ordered to the spare room. And he’d witnessed her various states of calamity.  

Yes. Things were looking promising, she had to admit.  

“So, I think you have the parent's approval, I haven't heard my mom laugh like that in years! She’s fun once the icy exterior thaws a little,” Keri told him much later in the night before they went to sleep, hugging him in the doorway to the spare room.

“Yeah, I think she’s great. Kinda freaks me out a little that she's only eight years older than me! And David is fuckin’ awesome, really good guy. He’s just like how I pictured him to be from what you told me.”  

His words made her beam brightly, reaching to kiss him. “Well, until the morning, you gorgeous man.”  

“Goodnight, tiny. Try not to miss me too much.”

She kissed him again, stroking his chest through his shirt. “I’ll try, but if I do, I can’t say that my hands might not wander while I imagine you there.” Licking her top lip, she winked, turning to enter her room, leaving Angel both frustrated and...  

“Get the fuck back down,” he spoke, looking to where his cock was beginning to swell in his jeans, closing the door. “We ain’t getting shit tonight.”  

The following morning, Keri was up before him, heading downstairs to find David pulling on his jacket.

“I'm just going out to pick up a paper and get some gas, do you want anything from the store?”

Stretching, she shook her head while yawning. “No thanks, I'll have a read of your paper when you're done with it, though.”  

“Okay I'll be back in about twenty minutes.” Opening the front door, she noticed that her mother’s car was absent, wondering why, at 9am on a Saturday, her mom wasn’t still in bed. Meryl loved a weekly lie in. David noticed her inquiring expression. “Ruth called her into work. Apparently, Agnes got her days off mixed up, so she’s had to go and cover for her.”  

“Wow,” she began, her eyes rounding. “I bet she was pleased.”

He laughed softly through his nose, remembering her fury, until Ruth had revealed the sweetener. “Actually, she was. She’s getting paid double time. Anyway, I’ll see you shortly.”  

Twenty minutes of a house to herself. Hearing the shower being turned on upstairs, armed with the knowledge that there were no parents currently under the same roof to catch her doing it, she decided that it was the perfect time to get her own back on the man currently standing under the jet of hot water.

Since the lock was broken on the bathroom door, she tapped it softly and called out 'only me' from the other side after removing her pyjamas, casting them to the floor as soon as she entered the white brick bathroom. Angel turned around in the shower cubicle, his eyes virtually popping right out of his head at the sight of a naked Keri walking towards him.

She could barely conceal the satisfaction at such a reaction, Angel gaping as she stepped in with him. “Move over buddy, there's room for a small person too.” He was rendered mute. “Oh, and good morning.” Fluttering her eyelashes, she stood there beneath the water, her bare skin not quite making contact with his, the large corner shower spacious enough for them both to stand comfortably in there. “Can you speak at all?”

Seeing her naked in the flesh for the first time had truly caught him off guard, the last thing he expected to be seeing that morning, but fuck, he was appreciative. Her body was incredible. Even more so than their dreams had alluded to.

Finally, after watching the water running down over her breasts, he found his voice. “Not that having a beautiful, naked woman in the shower with me is something I’d ever turn down, but if your mom or David come in now, we're dead.”

“Mom got called into work, and David went out to the store. He’ll be gone for twenty minutes. Besides, I’m doing nothing naughty. Merely taking a shower,” she stated sweetly, reaching around him to take her shampoo from the shelf.  

Damn her. “So, you're gonna stand there in front of me and expect me to keep my hands to myself, huh?' he said, his eyes travelling across her body, feeling a certain part of his begin to react to the sight he was presented with.  

Rinsing the suds from her hair, she once again reached past him, grabbing her conditioner and applying, placing the bottle back, her lips meeting his chest. “Yes, I do expect that. Maybe, though, I don’t have to.”  

She finally let her gaze fall, looking down, her smile broadening when she saw his cock standing erect, biting her lower lip as she grasped it with a gentle squeeze. “God, that’s so thick. See when we dreamed, it was always a little hazy, the exact size of your cock. I could never truly gauge what I was working with, but now, wow. The reality is a very nice, big surprise, I have to say.”

Her hand, a little slippery from the conditioner she’d just applied to her hair, ran up his shaft, her thumb stroking swirls over the very tip, pushing him back against the glass cubicle. He reached for her, Keri stepping back a little, her eyes warning him. Knocking his hand away, she closed the gap once more, her lips soft as his neck, a faint whine of a moan fluttering from her mouth. “Does that feel good?”  

Her whisper had him shuddering more than the deft ministration of her hand, slowly pumping at his shaft, kissing the column of his throat once more, a deep rumble vibrating against her lips, her tongue swiping where his beard met his neck, that black grit coarse against the soft lick. “Yeah, feels really good.”  

He twitched within the warm, slippery clutch of her grasp, his groans thickening as rapidly as his cock, her own furnace beginning to burn brightly. “You want me badly, don’t you? I bet you’d love nothing more than to bend me over right here, and bury this beautiful, big cock right up inside of me, wouldn’t you?”  

“Mm.” That soft grunt was all he could manage, their mouths meeting in a kiss of fiery honey, sweet heat burning between them as she quickened her hand, her other bracketing his throat and pushing him back when he tried to assert himself over her. It was an action he hadn’t expected from one quite so diminutive, her strength taking him by surprise.  

“Oh no, Angel Reyes. There’ll be none of that.” Her purr set the hairs at the back of his neck to stand on end, his chest beginning to rise and fall quicker, wanting nothing more than to grasp her waist, lift her up and drop her straight down onto his aching cock. “In fact, there’ll be no more of anything. I think I’m done here.”  

Releasing him, her mouth tilted into a smirk as she rinsed her hair, soaping herself down quickly before puckering her lips and leaving him there smouldering. His eyes narrowed at her as she swathed herself in towels, chuckling with amusement at his anguish. “I hope you enjoyed your preview.”

“You’re gonna pay for that, mamas.”

She pouted, licking her top lip. “To use your words, bring it.” Leaving the bathroom, the atmosphere definitely steamier than when she’d arrived, Keri went back to her bedroom, her eyes glancing in the direction of her nightstand drawer. God, she’d kill to take the edge off with her vibrator, but time wasn’t really on her side.  

After applying a liberal smothering of lotion to her skin, she dressed in her black skinny jeans and her lovely, soft, pale grey sweater that perpetually hung off one shoulder, revealing the dark leopard print undies she had on beneath. Finger combing her hair with some styling cream, she gave it a blast with her hairdryer, her tresses falling into their natural waves, Keri pinning it back to apply a little makeup, laughing as she heard Angel mutter about her being a demoness as he exited the bathroom and walked past her door.  

She was affixing her small, diamante stud earrings in when he arrived in her room, folding his arms, still glaring. “I hate you.”

Chuckling, she stood up, moving to kiss him. “Next time I have my hand around it, believe me, I won’t stop.”  

“Yeah, I’d appreciate that, rather than having to finish solo.” Just the thought of him relieving himself of what she’d stirred sent a pleasant quiver through her, kissing him hotly before they went downstairs, finding David in the kitchen, cooking up one of his mammoth sized breakfasts. Once they’d eaten, David heading over to their neighbour Steve’s place to continue helping him work on his classic truck rebuild project, Keri sat at the island reading the paper while Angel stood at the window, looking out into the garden as he drank his coffee.  

Five minutes passed before he got his true first taste of the local wildlife.

“Holy fuck! There’s a huge assed bear in your garden, come check it out!”  

“Colour?” she asked, not looking up from the paper.

“Black.”

She looked up, her face curious with anticipation. “Brown snout, and a chunk taken out of his left ear?”

“Yeah, it has actually,” he replied, puzzled at the specificness of her question for a few moments.

Her face lit up, flying from her seat at speed. “He’s back!” She ran at the refrigerator, pulling out a plate of meat cuts, taking it to the back door. “And where have you been?” she demanded, turning back to Angel and signalling with her hand that he should stay where he was.  

“Keri, what the fuck are you doing? That's about four hundred pounds of wild bear coming towards you,” he hissed, his eyes wide.

“Relax, he’s my bear,” she began, the huge beast approaching, making noises of greeting in his throat. “My mom found him abandoned on the side of the highway after his mother had been hit by a truck. He was only a few days old, so she brought him back here to raise him herself. My granddad used to do wildlife rehabbing, so she knew what to do.  

“He lived in the house with us until he got too big and was able to go back to the wild, but he comes to visit once a week or so. He thinks we’re his family, and we are, I guess, especially since he used to sleep in mom’s bed with her when he was tiny, before she made his own space for him when he got too rambunctious. He only came out of hibernation last week, though, so I haven’t seen him for months.”

Angel couldn’t help but feel his panic rise as the bear ambled closer, taking in the sheer size of the beast, but his anxious heart melted instantly when he saw it reach Keri, who put the plate down and crouched to fling her arms around his neck, the bear pushing his face against hers. “Hey boy, hey! I missed you so much! I wasn’t home when you came by last week, no, I was out taking lots of pictures of things not nearly as beautiful as you, yes I was!”

He was speechless at the sight, watching the bear put his head down and begin eating the meat from the plate, Keri continuing her talk. “We shouldn’t really feed him as it encourages them scavenging, but he’s never raided the trash, same with the neighbours either. He’s a good boy, he has his manners. He used to come back quite a lot, but it’s less regular now he’s older.”

“How old is he?” Angel asked, viewing the bear with fascination.

“He’s fourteen, and his name is Rufus! I named him after a bear in a book I read as a child.”  

He laughed, thinking it a very cute and non-threatening name for a creature who could disembowel a person with one swipe of his claws.  

“Don’t look so worried! I used to ride him around the lounge when I was nine! He’s lovely, but not good with new people, so you’ll have to stay there or he might become agitated,” she advised, her nails scratching his thick fur, Rufus fluttering his ears as he licked the plate clean of the blood trails. “Your breath stinks, boy. Yes, it does. I love you, though.” she continued, Rufus sniffing her face and giving her nose a lick before he turned and ambled away.  

“Well I gotta say it, you've got probably the most unusual pet in the world, even if he is a wild animal, and he seems to think the world of you,” he told her, stepping outside and lighting up a cigarette.

Her cheeks dimpled from her sweet grin. “Most gorgeous, big animals do.”  

Once he’d finished his cigarette, they headed out, Keri able to take him where she’d wanted to the previous weekend, up to the dinosaur museum, stopping for dinner on the way home at a steakhouse David had recommended, and then going for drinks with Ash and Rachel on the evening.  

His time with Keri was over way too soon for Angel’s liking, hating to leave her at the airport when Sunday morning rolled around, especially since he wouldn't get to see her for two weeks, with club business penned in the following weekend, making plans for her to go to him next time. She was able to fly down on the Thursday afternoon and stay until Monday morning, figuring she could head straight to college from the airport for her afternoon lectures.  

As soon as he walked back into his house, he couldn’t wait until she’d be there in it, too. After unpacking his bag, though, he saw a tiny part of her already was. His hand hit something fuzzy as he pulled his tangle of clothes out, peering down and removing what turned out to be a small triceratops beanie baby she’d obviously bought secretly at the museum giftshop and snuck in there when he hadn’t been looking.  

“Keri Jane,” he hummed, looking at the little plush toy with a smile. “Too fucking cute by far.”  

[romanceandshenanigans]

AITA for wanting to get back together with my now engaged ex? (AITA Tag Game)

Rules: Write an AITA question and post from the POV of one your OCs

Tagging: @janec23, @kittttycakes, @auroramagpie, @can-of-pringles and anyone else who wants to join in!

Thanks to @clairelsonao3 for tagging me! This was genuinely a lot of fun!

I know it sounds bad and it is, probably, really bad, but I need to get this all off my chest. I feel like I’m going insane and could really use a slap in the face right about now. There's nobody else in my life I can talk to about this. Apologizes in advanced for any spelling or other errors, this is my first time using Reddit and not used to the formatting.

Some backstory. I (30M) met my Ex (26F) eight years ago. She had left home for personal reasons I won't get into here and we ended up living together for almost nine months.

I know, you're probably thinking I'm a rake for living with a woman and not immediately proposing marriage, but circumstances made that impossible. Again, I know this sound like I'm making excuses, but for her privacy I won't divulge. Just know that for the majority of that time we lived as old bachelors. It was only in that last month did things change.

I loved her like mad. I still do, that's why I'm in this mess, but I'm getting ahead of myself. The point is, I had fully intended to marry her. I wanted to marry her, but before I could propose a FF (family friend) discovered us and convinced me not to.

I feel like now it's important for me to clarify that I am not a gentleman. My father was a common sailor and my mother was a cook. I made my living in theatre and working any kind of odd jobs I could. Now I do theatre full time, but even then I can barely make rent some days.

She, however, is a gentlewoman. I didn't know this at the time, but when the FF arrived, he made it clear she did have connections. Being with me all but assured the destruction of her reputation.

The FF, however, gave us an out. Either I could marry her and risk her family cutting her off leaving her destitute or I could let her go and pretend it never happened. (The family had a cover story on where she was during our time together.)

I ultimately decided to leave. At the time, I thought I had done the honorable thing. She could move on, find a husband who could make her happy and comfortable and not have to live with a mistake she made when she was eighteen.

Now we come to last week. A business associate invited me to a party and, for the first time in eight years, I saw her again. I didn't even know she was in town. As it turns out her fiance is my associate's brother.

The fiance not a bad man as far as I know. He's a bit of a stiff and doesn't seem to understand theatre or the arts at all, but that can be easily forgiven. His brother clearly loves him, so he must have other qualities that makes up for it.

This is exactly what I wanted for her. She's about to marry a good man and be set for life.

It's just…she doesn't seem happy. I know I'm projecting, but I can't help it. Every time I see her with him there is just no spark between them. It's like their cousins or siblings rather than lovers.

She’s was always so passionate. I can't imagine she's so changed she could content herself with mild affections.

I keep coming back to the question of why now? And the only conclusion I've come to is maybe her heart had been broken as much as mine. Maybe she's only marrying now because she has to. Or maybe it's taken her this long to move on. If she had moved on sooner, surely she would be married by now.

Needless to say, I'm not getting any answers soon. My associate has been bringing her in as a kind of counselor, so I have see her a few times since that first night. She’s treating me rather coldly, but that’s to be expected. As if stands we have to pretend we don’t know each other and it’s killing me.

If I knew for certain she was happy, I could let this go. The only reason I’ve been able to live with myself was the thought that she was living a life I couldn’t give her. My circumstances haven't changed, but I'm having regrets.

I should have asked her to marry me before I left or at least spoken with her on what to do. Now she likely thinks I'm a bastard for leaving without a word, and rightfully so.

Despite all of that, I can't help feeling there's a chance. Sometimes I catch her turning away when I look her direction. Even now and again she seems to slip and allows herself to relax around me before walking away. She even defended me in front of a whole dinner party when she didn't have to.

Am I going mad? I haven't done anything. We haven't had a single moment alone together. But every time I do see her, all I want to do is pull her into my arms and never let go, damn the consequences.

TLDR; After eight years my ex is back in town, engaged to a good man. She doesn't seem happy and every fiber in my being is telling me to get her back. AITA?

[briamichellewrites]

36

2006. Linkin Park hadn’t seen Brian since before his transition, except for Mike and Brad. Now that they were back in the studio together, Mike decided to bring him along to surprise everyone. He was extremely handsome! After going through hormones for twelve months, he had his surgery to make him the man he always wanted to be. He also started working out to build muscles. Brad often told him he would have no trouble getting a boyfriend!

“Hey, guys. I want you to meet someone. This is Brian Pitt.”

They were confused for a moment before they realized who he was. Oh my god! Mike laughed as they approached him. He looked great! They took turns hugging him. His beautiful long brown hair was pulled back into a bun and he had slight facial hair. How was he doing? He was doing great. The last time they heard anything about him, he was wanting to transition. Yeah, that was a few years ago.

He explained the process he went through to transition. It started with him changing his name, clothes, and hair. He then started hormones before having his surgery. It was not fun and he would not do it again. But he was also grateful that he did decide to do it. Why did he choose to transition? He told them about him being adamant he was a boy since he was younger. His father always corrected him because he thought he was just confused about the differences between boys and girls.

Then, he broke down in tears and told him again that he was a boy. That was when he realized he was being serious. He took him to a specialist, who highly recommended taking him seriously. That got the ball rolling in starting his transition. He was in therapy to learn how to love his body for about a year or two. The therapist gave him the diagnosis of gender dysphoria.

The hormones were the worst. Everything came in waves. The first three months were great. Then months six through nine were terrible. Then, the last three months were like the first. They could see parts of Bria in the way he spoke and in his face. They remembered how he mentioned how he wanted to be a boy. They didn’t know that he hated his body. They couldn’t imagine what it would be like to want to be a different gender.

What was his full name? It was Brian Thomas Pitt. He chose his middle name for his biological father, Thomas Mathews and he chose Brian because it was one letter different than Bria. Initially, he wasn’t going to transition because he didn’t want to regret it in the future. After a year or two of therapy, his therapist recommended that he did it to improve his mental health.

Did it improve his mental health? Yeah, he did. When he looked in the mirror, he liked what he saw. Before, he just saw things he wanted to change about himself. Mike confirmed everything he said. He and Brad had no idea what being transgender meant and they had to do a lot of research. They learned a lot from talking to his therapist and doctors. One of the biggest things they learned was to let him be who he wanted to be. He highly recommended reading into what the transgender community.

Was he going to get a girlfriend? No, he was gay. He was wanting a boyfriend, though. They laughed. For the first time in his life, he was genuinely happy about himself and his body. That was obvious in his face and body language. At eighteen, he was officially an adult. Was he going to move out? He wasn’t sure. They were wanting him to leave but were also wanting him to stay.

“‘Brian, you’re never here anymore.’ Or ‘Brian, when are you going to move out?’”

They laughed. They then learned that Mike and Brad were recently engaged. They had been talking about getting engaged for a couple of years but they wanted to wait until after Brian’s transition. Congratulations! He laughed and thanked them. Who asked? He did. They exchanged rings and were planning a small wedding with close friends and family that would include Brian.

Chester got up and congratulated him. He hugged him and thanked him. Was he jealous? No, he wasn’t. He was able to be genuinely happy for him because he was his best friend. What the band didn’t know was that the engagement came after Brad confessed to having a sexual affair with his co-star, Angelina Jolie in 2004. That caused fighting between them. Brian didn’t want to be involved, so he opted to not come home. After he went missing overnight, they had to come together to find him.

He had fallen asleep in the backseat of his car in the driveway. After waking him up, they went back inside. He went after both of them for putting him in the middle of their fights. If they couldn’t get along, he would be running away. They apologized and the three of them talked about what happened. Mike and Brad also had a very long conversation about communication and commitment. Brad wanted to show how sorry he was and how he wanted to commit to being with only him.

Will you commit to being with me and only me for the rest of our lives? Brad said yes. They kissed before hugging each other. The following day, they went shopping for engagement rings. Brian didn’t take them seriously until they proved to him they were done fighting. They apologized for putting him in the middle. That was inappropriate and it shouldn’t have happened.

With time and commitment, the three of them worked together to heal their family. Brad was working on different movies in different locations. Brian was flying to New York for a week to meet him on the set of The Departed, a movie he was co-producing. Matt and Leonardo DiCaprio were going to be there, so he was very excited! He was leaving in a couple of days, so Mike made sure he had everything packed. That included his pass to get on set and his medication.

While the band worked, Brian sat and watched while playing on his phone. He had recently upgraded his old phone to a Sidekick. It was a lot easier for texting. It also had a web browser. Dave got the idea that something happened with Mike and Brad. He wanted to ask, but not in front of Brian. He invited him over to hang out. Yeah, he could do that.

He told Brian he was by himself for dinner. That just meant he was going to Chipotle. The band laughed. Was that his favorite restaurant? Hell yeah! They had the best food! He usually got a burrito bowl because he didn’t know how to eat a burrito without making a huge mess.

At Dave’s hours later, he asked him what happened after giving him a beer. Brad cheated on me. He told him how he had confessed to having a sexual affair that lasted a few months. Because of that, they were fighting and unknowingly putting Brian in the middle. He was so angry that he threatened to run away. For him, he thought that the image he had of his father was destroyed.

“He held him up as someone who was perfect and his affair shattered that image for him.”

“So you’re marrying a guy who cheated on you?”

“Yeah. He promised to love me and only me for the rest of our lives. That sounds different when you say it out loud.”

“Mike, I know you built your life with him but don’t marry a cheater. At least consider what you’re going into. He’s not the only guy on this planet.”

He nodded before taking a drink of his beer. After they both got a little drunk, they kissed. They were about ready to take their clothes off but they stopped. Dave backed up and apologized. He was sorry too. Since he was too drunk to drive, he insisted he spend the night. He would. Thank you. Until then, they continued talking while they finished their beers.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia @boricuacherry-blog

[dreamyourselfxbackagain]

Look who just woke up- is that CARLOS MIRANDA? No, I must have been mistaken, RORY WILLIAMS from DOCTOR WHO. I heard they are 35 and stuck here just like everyone else. Even in the 20’s, he still gives off a wiser than his years, patience of a saint, greets death like an old friend, putting others first, family oriented  impression. But here, they are working as a DOCTOR They’re known to be quite PATIENT & COMPASSIONATE, but have a tendency to be STUBBORN & RESENTFUL on their bad days.

Gender/Pronouns : Male / he/him

How long have they been in Sydney : In his memories, 5 years. In reality, 7 months

Which suburb do they live in? Parramatta

Personality description : 

Strangers - dependent on the situation. Normally he will try and be nice, but if he feels any sort of threat that might change.

Casual friends - he probably has a lot of them as he's pretty friendly. With his life not constantly in danger he is pretty laid back, although can be a little sarcastic.

Loved ones - Rory cares deeply about the people he loves, and would do absolutely anything for them. However he will call them out if he needs to

Memories of their real life : 

Rory Williams was born in Leadworth, in a perfectly normal life. He was childhood best friends with Amy and Mels. After Amy's interaction with the Doctor, they were often playing games surrounding him, even though he didn't really believe he existed.

Whilst everyone else believed him to be a freak, he did also have a friend in Alec. They'd often play in a willow tree. Alec knew of his crush on Amy, and would tell him to move on. But Alec died of a heart attack, and Rory did what he could to support his family, it was also the moment he knew he wanted to go into medicine and help people, but he never liked willow trees again.

Amy eventually realised that Rory liked her, after Mels pointed it out, and the two of them started a relationship.

Then one day, the Doctor showed up, and he finally learnt that the man had always been real and not just in Amy's imagination. The Doctor left again for two years, and in this time he and Amy got engaged. Despite knowing of the Doctor's existence, he thought their adventures were over, he hadn't realised it was just the start.

It was at his stag party when the Doctor jumped out of his cake, that led to him first travelling in the Tardis. The adventures were cut short when he was shot, and swallowed by the crack, removing his existence from everyone's memories but the Doctor.

In a trap for the Doctor, an auton was made of Rory in Roman England. Not realising he wasn't himself, he approached the Doctor and Amy, though soon realised Amy didn't have her memories of him. Though he tried to get her to remember, the trap was sprung, and he was activated, shooting Amy. However the Doctor had a plan, and escaped the trap, putting Amy into the Pandorica to heal. The Doctor offered to take Rory to the point the Pandorica would be open, but instead he decided to stay with it, to protect it and Amy. Two thousand years, and without sleep.

Near the end of the time, the Pandorica was placed into a museum, and Rory became a guard there, eventually reuniting with Amy and the Doctor, and meeting River Song for the first time. The Doctor saved the day, and Rory was restored to his humanself. But his memories didn't return until his and Amy's wedding day.

After their honeymoon, they went on further adventures with the Doctor. But at some point, Amy was replaced with a granger, meaning Rory was unaware she was pregnant. By the time they realised, she was nine months pregnant and soon gave birth to a baby girl, Melody. But their baby was taken from them, and they then learned that River was an older version of Melody.

After being back on Earth, they eventually managed to get the Doctor to come to them to learn if he had any news. Mels turned up, threatening them to take her with them. However she was injured and soon regenerated into River, making them realise their childhood best friend was actually their daughter.

Amy eventually left Rory, wanting a divorce. He hadn't known the reason why, until a further adventure with the Doctor she revealed that she was sterile and couldn't have kids. They ended up reconciling and going on further adventures. That was until they ran into the Weeping Angels. In the end, a lone Angel got to him, sending him back in time with Amy soon following. They would never see the Doctor or River again.

What was their fake life like:

Open for plotting. He would have served, and does have all his memories including the 2,000 years he was protecting the Pandorica

Optional, please pick at least three and interpret them however you wish ::

Location they work in: Hospital

Quote: I'd Forgotten Not All Victories Are About Saving The Universe

Wanted Connections: Fake life family Co-workers Friends Ex-military connections

[meg2md]

(Very small The White Lotus season 1 spoilers?)

It's BROILING in my room right now. Just, fucking broiling. I think it's in the single digits outside but my parents' house is old and this room is way way way too hot so my window is open...

I know I've journaled a lot about this lately but I just turned 31 so it's on my mind... man, 30/2022 was WILD. This time last year, I would never have guessed in a thousand lifetimes that I'd have broken off my ENGAGEMENT with my partner of 9 years, gotten dumped by my rebound (lol), and ended up in a city in a completely different state for residency instead of getting married and staying in my home state. My life took a DRAMATIC change, and now I'm living this completely separate reality from what I'd been imagining for not only all of medical school, but the entirety of my long-term relationship. Wild. Bonkers. Unfathomable. Who am I?

Multiple of my friends have said it and I was thinking it: 30 had MAJOR tower vibes. (Lol tarot is a thing I get into every once in awhile.) It was a year of burning everything to the fucking ground. SHWOOP. Fuckin GONE. And I'm currently re-living the trauma of my ?dis-engagement/(first) breakup, because it all started to come up in full force about this time last year. December 2021 through January 2022.... yeah.... I still get nightmares. Even as the one who broke it off, it was the HARDEST thing I have ever done. Period. It makes me sick to my stomach. Knowing what I know now (even though it was the right choice), I don't think I could do it again because it was just too painful. I was watching The White Lotus season 1 with my brother today, and there were moments in Rachel Patton's story line that made my stomach churn because I have felt those feelings. Things could have gone very differently for me. Like, I could have been her: "I'm happy. I'll be happy, I promise."

In my head cannon, they don't last very long after the airport.

Anyway, in light of this I had my friend do a tarot reading for this coming year, 31/2023. I burned things to the ground, but in the aftermath maybe something beautiful can blossom? "When a horrific loss uproots us, we leave pieces of us behind in the soil, the structure on which we built our identity reduced to nothing more than an absent appendage, left behind to rot... [but] rotting [becomes] a means to transform." (In Shock, Rana Awdish). It's super corny, but I've always identified with cycles of death and rebirth. For example, how the fuck did I go from almost failing out of college to being an actual obstetrician/gynecologist? Um, what? How did I go from massively struggling with binge eating to being a super healthy (almost athletic) weight for almost a decade without much trouble?? And most recently, how did I go from being engaged to my partner of nine years (and spending all nine years trying to convince myself I'd be happy having kids) to being SINGLE??? Free?? Unshackled??? In a new state? My whole life was once scripted and now it's UNWRITTEN. It's great. It's horrible. I'm excited. I'm fucking terrified.

30 was bonkers, but I think it set the groundwork for me to have some MAJOR growth at 31. I asked my friend to do a reading outlining the coming year and how I can take advantage of the chaos I've created. A brief synopsis of my reading (to help me process): the part of me most prominent now is dominated by swords. Typical tbh hahaha. Bound, chained, conflicted. While I recently broke those chains, my wounds are still weeping, and I'm still stuck in place by the pain that ripping free from them caused. My past and future are wands: the past is largely conflict, comparisons with others, and competition; the future is me rising above that and finding contentment and balance within myself. I consciously focus on external forces (my career, new friendships, hobbies, fitness) while subconsciously I'm still riddled with addictions and temptations - specifically in this situation, CO-DEPENDENCE. This year I need to work on being the person who is there for me!! And ultimately, I think I have the fire under my ass to do it. The ultimate outcome of the situation is that I find balance with myself - that pentacles card that indicates reciprocal relationships signifies the relationship I will build with myself.

Ultimately a very positive reading!!! But one that indicates the time ahead is going to be hard. Boy howdy, it's already been hard. And not only am I re-living the break-up with my long-term partner, but my more recent break-up is intermittently fucking me up still. But, "Love arrives exactly when it needs to; love leaves when it must."

SO. Some goals for myself in the coming weeks as I enter 31 and 2022 comes to a close:

workout 2x/week

continue catching up on all things Cosmere

finish Melancholy of Mechagirl

finish On a Sunbeam

COOK FOOD

keep house clean

On a closing note, can't believe I have to go back to work in 2 days. It's criminal. Wish me luck driving 4.5 hours back to residency in this fucking blizzard weather :')

[amnerise]

thinking about the lyric “it’s over/it never began” in regards to amneris ................ yeah

[phases--ofthemoon]

Under my Skin (Paul x Fem Reader) Part one: The beach

You're a college student who is back in Forks for the summer. Your life is exactly how you want it and all figured out but what happens when your arrogant childhood crush throws your perfect life right off it's track.

1.7k words

Since you were nine your time was split between rainy forks and sunny California. Summers you would stay here with your dad in the sleepy little town and the rest of the year minus occasional holidays you’d be with your mom, step dad and step siblings in California. Once you went off to college in Seattle to study business you kept up with tradition of summers in forks now more for yourself than for your Dad.

Now you were about to be a sophomore in college with a great boyfriend, wonderful friends and a promising future, your life was going pretty well. Mark, your boyfriend was super attentive, smart and attractive. He was consistently at the top of the deans list and studying pre-law. He still made time for you on top of his busy schedule full of school and extracurriculars however this summer a majority of his time would be spent at his prestigious law internship.

People joke that you two would be engaged by the time you graduated. You could imagine Mark would be great husband you just weren’t sure he was the right man to be your husband. Still you were content with how things were, you enjoyed each other’s company and you had the same circle of friends. There might not be crazy passion between the two of you and you weren’t head over heels in love with him but you thought that stuff was fictional anyways. The stuff of Rom coms and romance novels.

It was the end of May and you were sitting at First Beach in La Push, you had been out of school for a couple weeks now and just like tradition you were staying at your Dad’s. You soaked in being outdoors as much as possible when you visited since during the school year you didn’t get much of it in the busy city. You loved Seattle but you found yourself missing the lush green nature of Forks more and more every semester.

The sun was peeking from the clouds as you sat on the beach towel reading some novel about unattainable romance. It was a good read sure but you weren’t sure how people believed in this sort of thing. You had never experienced it or even seen it in real life but maybe you were just a little jaded from your parents divorce.

The beach had been pretty much empty since it was the middle of the day during the week. Kids weren’t out of school for summer yet and most people were at work. Not the La Push boys though. They walked onto the beach in their prospective pack, they all looked like full grown men now… not the awkward preteens you remembered. They were all shirtless playing football down on the side of the beach that led to the thick forest.

Great there goes my quiet time. You didn’t have a problem with them, well most of them…you had all been acquaintances even friends with some of them since you had spent so much time here in the summers. They were all nice enough guys, friendly and funny. When you were all kids you had played together but it had probably been at least a few years since you had seen them.

You sat in your one piece black bathing suite and your light wash cut off jean shorts. Your sun glasses shielded your eyes so to anyone else it looked like you were caught up in your book but your eyes were still on the group of young men.

You recognized most of them and along with their now filled out physiques you noticed all their hair had been cut short. You watched them passing and throwing the worn football when one guy dramatically tackled another and laughter erupted amongst the men. You saw that familiar cocky smirk and your breath hitched. Paul fucking Lahote.

Your childhood crush whom when he found out about it teased you incessantly. It didn’t help that he was a couple years older than you. Your crush quickly turned to distaste and annoyance especially as you got older. Paul was always ridiculously attractive but his smugness totally ruined the appeal. You were totally over that crush from your preteen era or at least that’s what you told yourself.

You prayed they didn’t notice you or if they did they didn’t recognize you…you were very different from the little tomboy you once were. Your hair was no longer a tangled mess, you had grown a few more inches, had gone up at least a cup size, and your curves had really filled out. You looked like a woman now maybe if you were lucky they’d only remember the little girl.

You tried to go back to your book hoping it would distract you. The football landed several feet away from you, you could see in your peripheral vision one of the guys run over to grab it. “Holy shit Y/N! Is that you?” Dammit. You looked over seeing Embry Call walking towards you, puberty had really done the boy justice but he still had that goofy smirk you remembered as kids. You couldn’t help but smile at him, you had been closest with him, Quil and Jacob since you were all the same age.

You pushed your sunglasses up onto your head and stood up and smiled at the old friend. “Yeah it’s me.” He wrapped you in a big bear hug and you laughed. He set you back down and took a step back really looking at you. “Damn girl you got hot!” You fought the blush you felt beginning on your cheeks.

“I could say the same to you. Since when are you all buff?” You joked poking at his muscular chest and he laughed. The rest of guys began to appear behind Embry probably to retrieve the football he was holding captive.

“Guys you remember Y/N?“ Embry said looking at the group. Looks of recognition spread on their families faces, you waved and smiled at them noticing Quil, and Jared and a younger guy you didn’t quite recognize. You noticed Paul was the last to run up to the group and you hated that your heart rate sped up at the sight of him up close.

He was better looking and taller than you remembered. Beautiful copper skin, sculpted muscles, broad shoulders, strong jawline and smoldering dark eyes. It’s like he walked out of your romance novel. It was annoying how good he looked. You quickly adverted your eyes from him before you could make eye contact with one another.

“Hey Paul you remember Y/N?” Jared said elbowing him in the side. Paul had his signature smug smirk on his lips as he looked you up and down. You braced yourself for whatever stupid comment he was about to make but when his eyes locked with yours the smirk immediately fell and he stood there speechless. He looked like he was shocked or stunned. His intense stare stirred something inside of you but you quickly pushed it away. You had never seen Paul behave in this manner before it was strange to say the least.

“You okay man?” Jared laughed putting a hand on his shoulder. The guys shared looks with each other and you heard a few snickers. This was odd. Part of you felt good though maybe Paul seeing you now as a grown woman left him speechless. Maybe he felt bad for the way he treated you when you were younger. He glanced toward Jared and seemed to break out of whatever weird state he had just been in.

His voice was deeper than you remembered the the gravely tone to it gave you chills. “Yeah. I remember. Good to see you Y/N.” His eyes lingered on you in a way that made your squirm and your name on his lips sounded better than you wanted to admit. You simply gave a polite smile and nod toward him. The rest of the guys glanced between the two of you sharing a look of amusement that you didn’t understand, it was like you were missing an inside joke or something.

This was quickly turning awkward so you decided to make an escape and call it a day at the beach. “We’ll I gotta run but it was nice running into you guys.” You said bending down to grab your towel and book slipping on your flip flops.

“We‘re having a bonfire here tonight. You should come! It would be nice to catch up.” Embry said. “Starts around nine.” You weren’t sure if that was a good idea but didn’t have any plans either and it was nice to see some of the guys again.

“Thanks, maybe I will. I just have to make sure nothing is going on tonight back at the house.” You smiled. You were sure your Father would probably have date with ESPN but you still wanted to check.

Embry nodded and handed you his phone. “Here put your number in and I’ll text you the details.” You did as he requested glancing in Paul’s direction, he looked like he was fuming staring at Embry. There had never even been a hint of sexual chemistry between you and Embry but even if there was now you didn’t know why Paul would care either way.

“Here ya go.” You handed Embry back his phone. The guys were already starting to walk away waving over their shoulders and you overhead Paul grumble something to Jared but couldn’t make out what it was.

“No fucking way.” Jared laughed loudly. Embry waved bye and ran after them. Jared ran over next to him and relayed whatever Paul had told him and he fell in the sand laughing. Paul bent down and grabbed Embry, he looked like he was going to punch him or something but Jared, Quil and the other guy broke it up before a fight could ensue ending with Paul stomping off. What the hell?

“Well this is going to be fun.” You heard Embry say to the rest of the guys and they all laughed before they walked out of earshot. You walked to your car wondering what all that had been, it was weird but you were curious. You decided you might just have to go to this bonfire to investigate...

Part two: The Bonfire

[a3r3n]

BABYLON || MARK LEE

Pairing: Mark × girl!reader (+ Jaemin, but not as a love interest)

Genre: angst, arranged marriage!AU

Word Count: 2.1k+

⚠️Warnings: none. Or maybe a mention of sex like once.

A/N: in case you're wondering: you can absolutely read this as a one-shot but yes, I decided to make a series out of Yuta’s fic because I like to overwork myself ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Anyway, it’ll involve all nine members of Nct 127 and this one is about Mark, who isn’t even my bias but manages to make me fall in love with him every time :’) Enjoy it <3

🌼Nct 127 Arranged Marriage!AUs Masterlist

🌼Act I - Act II - Act III

Summary: You knew it'd be your turn sooner or later as well. You knew how the world you lived in worked, and you were well aware of the fact that you'd be another victim of an arranged marriage too, just like the other dozens of children who were part of that society. You just didn't think it'd happen so fast and unexpectedly. But above all, you could have never imagined the man whom your parents wanted you to marry was the same who, some years prior, had made you fall for him, letting you end up with a broken heart.

It's a chill night of December, and you're standing on the balcony of a huge mansion that belonged to a wealthy couple, friends of your parents. You're taking a short break from what is currently being one of the roughest evenings of your life, feeling the need to spend a moment alone to cool off a bit. Behind the closed French doors, a bright row of chandeliers lights up the vast dining room where countless groups of dressed-up people are chatting while sipping some expensive Italian wine. Among all those rich families, there's yours as well, too busy kissing their boss' feet to notice your disappearance.

The cool breeze sends a shiver down your spine, reminding you of the light dress you're wearing, but despite the cold temperature, you're reluctant to head inside, unwilling to go back to the fake smiles and dull conversations.

Another reason why you'd rather freeze to death than join the people in the dining room is a boy your age named Mark Lee.

Mark Lee, son of your parents' boss.

Best student in your faculty.

A wunderkind in the music field.

An innocent, sweet, dear boy.

The perfect son, perfect student, perfect friend.

Everyone's favorite, Mark Lee.

Your ex-boyfriend, Mark Lee.

The boy who's had your heart in his hands since freshmen year of high school, only to break it into million pieces four years later, right before starting college. You even tried to be at least friends, but it didn't work out, above all because of the resentment you felt towards him, and now you only say words of hatred every time you talk to each other. Unfortunately for you, Mark is always your parents' boss' son, reason why you have to see his face even outside the campus, during dinners between your families or, like in this case, at the Annual Party.

You've always seen this event as a shallow business rendezvous among colleagues who pretend to like each other for one night, but the thing you despise the most about it is the engagement announcements. Wealthy entrepreneurs giving fifteen minutes-long speeches to let everybody know their kids will get married. No need to say that these marriages are always arranged by the parents for the sake of their businesses, not caring if their children are happily in love or not. Some of them get lucky, eventually falling in love with each other, but the majority is often condemned to a life full of pain and infidelity.

This year is Yuta's turn, one of your ex's closest friends, and rumor has it that he and his almost-fiancee have been sleeping together for a while now. "They belong to the lucky ones," you think, pressing your arms together to find a bit of warmth, and right when you finally consider the idea of going back inside, a voice calls your name, startling you. «What are you doing here all alone?»

«Jaemin, it's you.»

«Who else did you think I was? Mark?» he asks with a mocking tone, emphasizing the last word. You roll your eyes and decide to ignore what he's just said. «I'm kidding! I know you'd never want to see him,» he adds, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

You and Jaemin have been best friends since birth, not only because you live right next to each other but also because your parents are both colleagues and long-standing friends. You even used to have a little crush on him when you were kids, but then you met Mark, and... well, he turned your heart upside down.

«However, I'm afraid you'll have to see him soon,» he continues, «your parents want you to join them now. The Nakamotos are about to announce Yuta's engagement, but Mr. Lee said he has something important to tell everyone first.»

You raise an eyebrow, perplexed. Mark's dad never participated in the engagement announcements and would usually let his wife speak whenever he had something to say. That's why it's taken you by surprise to know that he would give a public speech. «Something important? Like what?»

«I don't know; he didn't say anything else. Even Mark has no clue,» he shudders, «anyway, we should really go if you don't want to make your parents mad. Besides, it's freezing here.» He grabs your hand and leads you back to the main hall, where everyone is now sitting, impatiently waiting for Mr. Lee to speak.

When your dad sees you're with Jaemin, he shoots you a glare, hoping no one else would notice you're holding hands. He knows you're just friends, and he trusts Jaemin, even more than his own daughter, but other people don't, and he's afraid they might spread false rumors about you. And this would be highly inconvenient, given what's about to happen.

As soon as you reach the table where your parents are sitting along with the Lee family, Mark's dad walks to a small stage, grabs a microphone, and begins to speak. «Good evening, everyone! Now that we're all gathered here, I would like to make an announcement!» You look at Jaemin, who's sitting a few tables away, and you both snicker at Mr. Lee's excessively solemn voice tone, reminding you why he rarely gives public speeches.

«As you all know, the Annual Party is a cheerful occasion that allows us to spend a fun time with people who aren't only our colleagues, but our friends as well.» You have to hold back a disapproving sound at that one, but no one seems to notice it.

«However, we also know that the most awaited moment of the night is the engagement announcements. This year, we said that there would be only one, but we lied.» He makes a brief pause, and an indistinct chatter suddenly fills the space around you, only to fall back silent when he starts speaking again.

«Actually, there will be two engagement announcements tonight.»

An unexpected panicked feeling takes over your whole body, and your eyes go immediately to Mark to see his reaction, but he looks as confused as you.

"Is he going to announce Mark's engagement?" you think, unable to explain why this only thought has made you suddenly sad. "As if my heart weren't broken enough."

You don't have much time to brood about it, though, since the man who's just stood up to join Mr. Lee on the stage is your father. Now your alarmed gaze is directed towards Jaemin, and he looks at you at that same moment. «What's happening?» you mouth and your best friend shakes his head, even if you both have a clear answer to your question.

«My friends,» your dad starts talking, «we're glad to inform you that my beloved daughter and the heir of the Lee & Kim Firm, his son,» he adds, hinting at Mark's father, «are now officially engaged.»

A loud round of applause follows the unexpected announcement, and everyone is now looking at your table with a sly smile on their faces while some of them even stand up to congratulate you. In the middle of that outburst of illusory happiness, the only thing you're able to do is look at Mark in disbelief while he mouths an inaudible "I didn't know it."

And you didn't know it either. You had absolutely no clue your parents had agreed to let you marry Mark Lee.

The disappointment and anger in your eyes are noticeable when you turn to your mother, silently asking for an explanation. Why? is the question written on your face. Why have you done this to me? They knew about your break-up: it's not like they thought you were still together. And they knew how many tears you shed because of him, how much pain he gave you. Why would they want you to get even more hurt?

«I'm not marrying him,» you suddenly yell at your father, standing up.

Everybody has now gone silent. Your mom squeezes your arm, begging you to be quiet and sit down, while your dad gives you a death stare. «Yes, darling, you are. Don't be silly now,» he says in a falsely sweet voice.

«I don't want to marry him, and you can't oblige me!» you cry, making the boy in front of you stand up too. Before your father can kill you in front of all those people, Mark grabs your wrist and, after a barely audible apology, drags you out of the hall.

«Have you gone mad?» you shout when he slackens the grip on your wrist. «What the hell is wrong with you?» you then add, giving him a dirty look.

«What the hell is wrong with you!» he replies. «Do you want our parents to make a bad impression in front of everyone?»

«If this is what it takes to make this deceiving facade of perfect harmony fall down, then yes, I do! How does nobody realize this is all fake?! We don't even love each other... anymore!» The last words leave a bitter taste in your mouth, but you try to make it go away.

«It doesn't matter,» he says with a deadly serious face.

«What?»

«It doesn't matter if we don't love each other… anymore. Our parents have decided we will get married, and we're going to do what they say!»

«Are you saying you're okay with spending the rest of your life with a woman you don't love? Are you really okay with an arranged marriage that might end up in eternal sadness and infidelity?»

«Are you saying you would cheat on me?»

«I'm not. You know I could never.» Mark's eyes widen, and his expression softens as you say those words, but he's quick to hide it before you can notice it. «But this doesn't mean our marriage would be happy,» you add, «and we should do anything we can to fight against it!»

«Not a chance,» he replies, «I'm not going to make a fool of my dad. He has a reputation to keep: do you understand this?»

«So it's all about reputation,» you scoff, «all about appearance. I hate this world of fake moralists obsessed with making a good impression! Besides, your parents didn't even warn you about our engagement, and you're still willing to do what they tell you!»

«They must have had their own reasons to not tell me, just like they certainly had their reasons to choose you as my future wife. They would have never done this if it weren't for the welfare of our business!»

«And since when is your business more important than you?» you let out a nervous chuckle. «I don't care if you don't agree with me anyway. I won't let them decide my own future!»

«Now you're talking out of anger!» he yells, then slightly lowers his voice. «When you're more relaxed and able to think clearly, you'll understand this is the best decision. Now let's get back and not make a scene!»

«I said I'm not coming!»

«This is really not the right time to be stubborn! Let's just go back there!»

«I can't! My parents need to understand that what they're doing is wrong!»

«They don't need to understand anything! The only person who has to understand the situation and stop being unreasonable is you! Now let's go back!» he says, raising his voice and grabbing your wrist again.

«I said I don't want to!» you cry with an equally loud voice tone, making him sigh in despair.

«Please, baby, can you just-» he stops as soon as he realizes what he's just said.

You both keep quiet for a minute, only looking at each other, then you decide to break the silence. «What did you just call me?» you whisper-ask with a trembling voice.

But you've heard how he called you.

Baby.

Just like he used to call you when you were still together, and with the same tone he used when he pretended he didn't enjoy your constant teasing.

And just like that, you don't want to run away anymore. You couldn't anyway, given that your legs have become weaker and your heartbeat can't stop speeding up. One word of his and all the efforts you made to stop loving him have now vanished.

«I-I'm sorry, it slipped...» he whispers while his cheeks get red from the embarrassment. «Please, let's get back now.» He offers you his arm, and you hold it without thinking twice, your mind too blurred by the memories of the two of you together to remember anything else.

You don't want to marry him. You truly don't.

He broke your heart and played with the remaining pieces.

But you don't stop him from taking you back to the main hall.

You don't stop him from telling everyone you acted like that earlier only out of surprise.

You don't stop him from wrapping his arm around your waist while people with faces you can't recognize come to congratulate you.

Lastly, you don't stop him from slowly crawling back into your patched heart.

And you wonder if he even ever left it.

©Aeren All Rights Reserved. Please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works.

[storiesforallfandoms]

break it up! ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 1553

request?: yes!

“Could you write a imagine with mgk about the fight that took place on the vma with that guy dressed in pink?”

description: in which she finds herself in the middle of a fight between her boyfriend and a professional mma fighter

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing

materlist (one, two)

The night had been going so well. Colson had won the award he had been nominated for, and he and Travis had closed out the show together. He was floating on cloud nine and you were so proud of him. You were sure that nothing could ruin this night.

And then you were approached by a man in a pink suit.

Colson was talking to someone, so you were stood waiting for him. You were a bit confused when you felt someone tap on your shoulder, and even more confused when you turned to see it was MMA fighter Conor McGregor.

“You’re (Y/N), right?” he asked. “Sorry, this might be super weird, but I’m a huge fan.”

“Not weird at all, just a bit shocking,” you responded. “I didn’t expect someone to be a fan of mine at a music show.”

“Oh, I’ve been a fan for so long. I’ve followed your Instagram for years.”

That may have been a weird way to classify yourself as a fan to anyone else, but you were a model. Some would just refer to you as an “Instagram model”, but you had done plenty of professional modelling gigs, too. You had mainly blown up on Instagram after you started to date Colson, so that was how people decided to categorize you. You didn’t take it as the insult people tried to make it. Regardless of what they called you, you were still successful in a job you loved.

“Are you alone?” Conor asked.

“Oh, no. I’m here with my boyfriend.” You turned to gesture to Colson, who was still off talking to someone else. Conor’s face screwed up and you knew where this was about to go.

“No offense, but you are way too good for him.”

You forced out a real sounding laugh. “Yeah, I’ve heard that a lot since the whole Eminem beef shit.”

“I don’t mean it that way. I mean, if I had a girl like you, I’d have you attached to my hip wherever I went. You shouldn’t be standing by yourself waiting for a guy like that.”

You shuffled uncomfortably, looking over at Colson again. This time, he was looking back at you. You hoped he saw the discomfort on your face and come to your rescue.

“Hey, can I get a picture?”

You turned to tell Conor no and to ask him to leave you alone, when suddenly Colson appeared by your side. He put an arm around you waist, holding you protectively to him.

“Hey man, why don’t you leave my girl alone?” he asked, glaring at the older man.

Conor glared right back at him. “I was just engaging in a conversation with someone I am a fan of. I don’t think that’s a crime.”

“She obviously doesn’t want to talk to you, so why don’t you fuck off?”

Conor glanced at you. You leaned into Colson’s embrace, wanting to disappear from Conor’s gaze, and the show in general at this point. You just wanted to go home and spend the rest of the night cuddled up in bed with Colson, celebrating his amazing night. You didn’t want this moment to suddenly make everything bad.

“Fine,” Conor said, backing away and shrugging. “I’ll leave you both be.”

It seemed too good to be true, but you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to leave. You put a hand on Colson’s chest and mumbled, “Let’s go, babe.”

You were both turning away when Conor added, “Have fun being unsatisfied tonight, (Y/N)!”

Colson quickly turned around and marched up to Conor, getting right in his face. He easily towered over Conor by a few inches at least, but Conor looked far from being scared.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Colson hissed.

“I think you heard me, pretty boy,” Conor retorted.

You grabbed Colson’s arm, trying to drag him away. “Colson, leave it alone. He’s not worth it.”

“Oh, it’ll be worth it if I can beat this scum’s ass into the ground,” Colson said.

“I’d like to see you try, pixie stick.”

Your grip on Colson’s arm tightened, burying your nails into his skin to try and snap him out of this angry trance. You knew under normal circumstances that Colson could hold his own in a fight, but you weren’t about to see if that held up against an actual trained fighter.

Colson chuckled, humorlessly, and shook his head. “You know what, (Y/N)’s right. You’re not worth it. You can’t even win a fight against trained professionals.”

Conor’s face was turning red. You tried pulling Colson away again, worried about how the older man would react when angry.

“Go throw a chair at a bus again, dickhead,” Colson said.

The next sequence of events all happened so fast you could barley comprehend it.

Conor’s fist swung towards Colson. The latter was able to easily dodge the punch, but that didn’t stop Conor from trying again. Luckily, security was nearby and basically swarmed the three of you. You were dragging Colson away, successfully this time, as Conor fought against the security and continued to yell insults at Colson. He had to be dragged out of the arena, literally kicking and screaming as he went.

Another security guard came up to the two of you. “Listen, we’re gonna have to ask you two to leave as well.”

Colson shrugged. “That’s fine. We’ll go.”

The guard escorted the two of you to a different exit than Conor was brought out of. Colson called for a ride on your way there, so the two of you weren’t waiting outside for long before a black SUV pulled up and announced they were there for the both of you.

The ride back to Colson’s hotel room was quiet. Neither one of you even looked at each other. You weren’t mad at Colson for the way he reacted. Far from it, in fact. If some woman had been saying stuff like that to Colson in front of you’d probably get angry, too. But you were starting to worry he was upset with you. Not that you had even done anything that warranted him getting upset, but the silence was speaking volumes.

You were grateful for the hotel room bathroom; it gave you a brief moment of peace to calm down after the events of the past hour. You grabbed a pair of pajamas and changed out of the now uncomfortable outfit you had been wearing to the award show. You scrubbed your face clean of the makeup you were wearing and did a quicker version of your skin care routine to make sure your skin didn’t get too irritated from the makeup removal.

When you walked out, Colson was already laid in bed in just a pair of grey sweatpants. He was propped up against the pillows, flicking through the channels that the TV had to offer before settling on his own Netflix that he had set up the night before. You crawled into bed next to him, cuddling into his bare chest. He immediately wrapped an arm around you, his hand going to your hair to twirl the strands between his fingers.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said after some more silence.

You looked up at him. “For what?”

“For what happened back there.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to be sorry, babe. I don’t blame you for the way you reacted.”

He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “I shouldn’t have stooped to his level, though. I shouldn’t have thrown insults at him and made him more upset.”

“You couldn’t have known he was going to cause a physical fight.”

He gave you a look. “He’s fucking Conor McGregor. You breathe wrong and he’ll start a fight. I should’ve known better.”

You sat up so that you could be eye level with Colson. You took his face in your hands and made him look at you. “Listen, you were standing up for me when he was making me uncomfortable. He’s the one who tried to provoke you into being physical, and when you refused he was the one who took the first swing. Never be sorry for the way you acted tonight.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “I guess you’re right. God, when I saw your face while he was talking to you it just enraged me. I could tell you didn’t want to be there. He’s such a fucking prick.”

“He was being a dick for the sake of being one. He thought you wouldn’t fight back, and only made himself look more like an idiot. I hope some cameras got good pictures of him being dragged away like a child throwing a tantrum.”

Colson chuckled to himself. “Yeah, I can see tomorrow’s headlines already. Washed up MMA fighter tries to get physical with former rapper MGK. That totally won’t make him look like an idiot or anything.”

You giggled and settled yourself back into Colson’s chest. He wrapped his arm around you and lowered his head to kiss you on top of yours.

“I love you, you know,” he said. “I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

“Pummeled by a washed up MMA fighter, probably,” you joked. “But I know, and I love you, too.”

[chantsdemarins]

❄️Frost Secrets from the Other Son

Chapter 2-Loki, Meet Lillian

Summary:

When a Midgardian journalist comes to Asgard to record the royal history for humans, her illicit affair with Loki threatens to unravel Odin’s family and reveal his true parentage...

Literary smut ahead, haha

Chapter 2 Loki, Meet Lillian

Loki knew that he had already been talking and essentially flirting with many people at the solstice ball this evening; he arrived late, fresh from some other engagement off-world; he wasn’t entirely sure what was what since his return. He didn’t read memos or talk to any of the guilds who would have informed him of the importance of the evening solstice event. He knew bits and pieces of a human entourage of journalists arriving, but he assumed they would be much like the last humans who came by on official business, heady and boring.

He didn’t like this new arrangement; it was much more satisfying to roam Midgard and find the interesting humans when there were some, of course, which wasn’t all that often. Maybe every 200 years. But Loki had his sympathies, they had known about humans since the dawn of creation, and these lowly Midgardians just found out they weren’t alone…So he felt a bit guilty, and this woman before him was clearly just a human and out of her element.

He had noticed her though, her presence brought enough interest for him to conjure a way to meet her. This woman was delightfully curvy, the dress she was wearing was clearly ill sized, but this was to his liking. She was smart, he could tell, and he wondered what her role must be, maybe she was a messenger or sorts for the other human biographer?

The truth was, Loki didn’t always like himself, and he especially didn’t always like being the tortured eternal bachelor playboy. Maybe he would just be a tour guide tonight. Simple enough, no drama. He imagined himself much like the guarded palace he lived in.

He turned to Lillian and closed the heavy doors behind them. The thud brought Lillian’s attention to the fact that they were now alone in a massive dark library with only a few candles lit here and there, probably for a practical precaution against setting the whole room on fire, but the atmosphere it created was slightly romantic.

Loki, ever vigilant in his attempt at being professional, was walking through the aisles talking and talking about the origins of some of the collection, his large hands gently gliding past the many books. He took one off the shelf and brought it to Lillian. Holding the book to the candlelight, he showed her pictures that resembled the illuminated manuscripts she had once seen from the 14th century. More proof of Asgard’s status as horribly outdated.

Although she watched as Loki’s delicate fingertips luxuriously traced the book's spine as he placed it back on the shelf. Lillian sighed audibly. Was he seducing her with the Asgardian equivalent of encyclopedias?

Growing agitated with his pace, Lillian spoke, “Are you truly planning on giving me the complete tour of the royal library tonight?”

“I am already, aren’t I?” Loki said, spinning around with a wide grin.

“Too late.”

Lillian steadied herself. He was obviously playing this very cool. A little too cool for her Ohio, midwestern self, actually. Whether it was the trippy mead or just her own needs shaking her into a kind of space-drunk hybrid sobriety, she suddenly was unequivocal that she was a grown-ass woman. Indeed going further with this death metal-esque guy would be the kind of sabotage that might ruin this massive opportunity she had been given. She was also free to sleep with whoever she wanted. There was no moral chastity belt on Midgardian women on Asgard. Or was there? Did she possibly miss a briefing? At any rate, the debate inside her head had ended. She made her choice. It was now or never.

Loki was stalking near the nine realms sections, narrating his investigation of finding just the right book about Svartalfheim when he heard Lillian call to him.

“Hey, alien man, you’re talking a lot over there, and I’m over here wondering why you are still over there,” she was a little shaky in her delivery, but obviously she was now giving the man some kind of clue to her state of mind.

“Oh, I see.”

With a remarkably quick change of decorum, in a manner of seconds, Loki was over feigning to be a gentleman. He had made a gallant effort. He closed the Svartalfheim book with a loud clap, and with a fast swoop, he pinned Lillian against the nearest shelf.

A few of the ancient texts came crashing on the floor, barely missing them. Loki was very much “space drunk”, and it was the solstice, he was admittedly intrigued by this woman.

Loki placed his lips on hers tightly. She could feel the heat of his body, she could also feel more of him than she could see earlier.

“Oh god!” Lillian laughed.

“That’s me for certain!” Loki laughed equally.

“That’s you?”

Lillian thought he could be slightly overly confident at this point…

Loki cut her thinking short when he suddenly ruched up her dress until he could find her underwear. This was really happening. She still was hanging on to her professional principles enough to consider stopping him until he pushed aside her panties until he could place two long fingers inside her.

She flinched, and her mind went blank. It had been a while. Too long.

Loki seemed to understand just how long it had been as he felt how tight she was; his mind raced to how tight she would feel with his cock inside her. His mind was buzzing with pleasure. He thought Lillian smelled like Midgard. Like peaches or some other stone fruit, he recalled from his travels there.

“Do you want me to magic my clothes off, or do you want me to take them off myself? You seem like a visual person. I don’t want to rob you of the chance to watch a god strip in front of you.”

Lillian, of course, had the luck and lack of morality to be about to have sex with an Asgardian and one who seemed to think he was a god with magic. She wasn’t quite sure he was telling the truth about anything, so she offered,

“You can save your magic for when you are fucking me.”

Loki laughed at her defiance.

“Well, I don’t need magic for that; I am well equipped naturally to please. I’ve had 1,000 years to practice.”

Again, Lillian did not believe that about him.

He unfastened the front of his leather outfit, which seemed rather complicated and official. Lillian wondered if this man was a courier or messenger for the courts, obviously, something to do with talking.

He took off his shirt, and Lillian was stunned.

His body was unlike any man on Earth she had ever been with. At this point, the propranolol she had taken to calm her nerves was waning, and her heart started to beat with the current circumstances. Lillian felt she could see every possible muscle under his pale white skin.

His eyes were a delicate blue; they kept her attention the most, oddly. They offset the striking contrast with Loki’s black hair, which grazed his shoulders in spiraling curls.

When he kicked his leather pants off, he was completely naked. Apparently, on Asgard, men don’t wear underwear. Or maybe it was just this guy.

His cock was massive, just as it had felt when he was pinning her against the bookshelf, but more intimidating now that he was in his statuesque glory.

Instead of giving in to the fear and arousal she was being overwhelmed with, Lillian chose to again say something snarky.

“You know, bragging about your ability before you actually demonstrate it can harm your ability to impress someone….”

Loki heard her, but he also noticed her staring at him with a fierce, unwavering, deeply appreciative glare.

“You can say that, but you like what you see, don’t you?”

He knew Lillian’s heart was racing. He felt how wet she was; his fingers lingered inside her.

“I do like what I see, very much.”

Lillian had no choice but, to be honest once again. Suddenly things seemed like they were taking way too long once again. Much longer, Lillian might change her mind entirely and recoup her professionalism and purpose for this crazy trip.

She spoke up and stepped away slightly.

“Don’t you think we better hurry? I am supposed to be out there still meeting people, and I wouldn’t want to get caught either.”

Loki was indeed very drunk, so she was correct, he better hurry.

“Come here.” he motioned to her.

Loki held her close in his arms, kissing her neck, kissing where the straps of her dress met her warm skin. He gently pushed the material off her shoulders and tugged the rest of her dress until it fell to the wood floor, making a nice pile next to the books. She was now in her Midgardian bra and underwear. She wondered how often he’d seen that?

He picked Lillian up quickly with a surprise; since she wasn’t a tiny thing, this guy definitely worked out. Placing her delicately on the couch, he laid on top of her and pushed her panties aside once again with his long fingers, but this time, he lined his beautiful masterpiece of a cock against her.

“Aren’t you, I mean, do you want me to take off my bra and…,” Lillian shyly wondered aloud as she felt how smooth and hard he was, just almost making his way inside her.

“Nah.”

“No time.”

And with that, Loki lowered his face to Lillian’s neck and pushed himself gently inside her. She gasped. With fury, he found her clit and began moving his fingers around it as he pounded her core. Lillian felt like she was losing consciousness; her thoughts were fleeting; maybe she was too faded to be having sex with the first Asgardian man who gave her some attention…

“Ouch,” Lillian yelped as Loki picked her up by her ass to find a better angle to ram his cock into her.

“Oh…Oh, sorry, am I hurting you, my beauty?”

“You are just a little bigger than I’m used to and honestly, it’s uh, it’s uh…been awhile,” she panted.

“I can tell. Fuuuck. Fuuck.” Loki shouted just as Lillian started yelling in his ear. Usually, that kind of strong reaction would have been incredibly annoying, but Loki immediately loved it.

He felt appreciated and seen.

Lillian was fighting for logic as he pounded her deeper, “Hey, wait, she panted; I’m not on any Earth birth control. Are you on Asgardian birth control?” she queried; who knows if there was even such a thing.

He tried to reply with a few quick breaths, “Oh, don’t worry, Asgardian and Midgardian rarely ever conceive.” He couldn’t hold out any longer; he took a deep breath and came hard inside Lillian.

The intense feeling spurred her orgasm immediately following his; they both gasped for air and were barely able to find any. After several minutes Loki was still breathing heavily, but he found the energy to take his right hand away from behind Lillian’s head and place it on her stomach. This action spurred Lillian from her orgasm coma; with her eyes widening, she saw a faint green light emanating from his fingers. She jumped back from him instinctively.

“What the HELL are you doing?”

Loki spoke, “I know you don’t understand entirely, but I have magic, and I am using it to ensure the insane sex we just had doesn’t produce any illegitimate offspring. It’s to help you feel assured.”

“But you said Midgardian and Asgardian people can’t produce offspring.”

Loki shrugged, “Is caution ever a bad thing with a perfect stranger you just fucked?”

Lillian picked up his hand, pulling it towards her. Inspecting it, “Just checking for LCD lights or something weird like that.”

“I assure you, lady, it was my magic.”

“Well, I agree with what you said earlier; you don’t need it where it matters most.”

Lillian was laughing now, thinking about this gorgeous naked man in front of her, who had just fucked her better than any Earthman had even come close, and he was very inebriated to boot.

“Thank you, you better haste and put your dress back on; I sense the party goers stirring. It’s probably time for dancing, and they will look for me at least.”

“Why would “they” be looking for you?” Lillian said as she pulled her dress over her hips after finding it lying on a copy of “Asgardian herbal treatments for Visitors.”

“Oh, you know. People notice when I’m not around.” Loki said, winking again and maybe trying to cast a line Lillian’s way to see if she’d miss him or if there would be a round two later in the kitchen.

Just as they both looked marginally presentable, and Loki released the magic he had placed on the door lock, Thor burst into the library with his usual exuberance.

“Ah, brother, there you are. And I see you are with the journalist. We’ve been looking for her. Loki, have you two met officially yet?”

Loki and Lillian looked at the floor, to the ceiling, and then back to Thor with equally blank faces.

“Brother?” Lillian finally said aloud.

“Perhaps not then.” Thor laughed and bowed, his leather attire making stretching noises as he bent over.

“Loki, meet Lillian,”

Thor gestured with his long muscular arm toward Lillian. Thor continued, seemingly not noticing their facial expressions, “This is Lillian Devine; she’s here from Midgard to stay with our family. She’s writing a book about us for the Earth people, so we um, are more understandable to them, or something like that.”

“You're writing a book about us?” Loki said coyly.

Why had he thought the journalist was a man? Humored at what had just transpired both in his head and between their bodies, he passed his gaze on to Lillian, waiting for her to somehow help them both out.

“I am appointed by some very official people, I guess, and well, here we are.”

“Here we are.” Loki echoed into space.

He then sharply turned to Thor walking him back towards the library door, “Brother, thank you so much for the lovely introduction. Would you mind getting our guest some more of our special Asgardian punch? I think it might be just what the lady needs on this balmy night. She was just telling me how much she liked it.”

“Balmy? It’s getting chilly outside, brother. Are you feeling okay?” Thor looked over to Lillian, plastering a fake smile across her face with impeccable speed.

Ever the gentleman, Thor walked back to Lillian, “Lady, do you want something more to drink or is my brother speaking out of turn?”

“Oh Thor, sure, thank you. That would be so kind of you.”

“Alright then, I will be back shortly….”

Awkwardly Thor left both Lillian and Loki staring at one another.

“Oh, dear.” Loki finally spoke.

Lillian followed, “I guess I should have asked your name before we had sex?”

“I should have told you my name and who I was. This is my fault. I’m obnoxious and drunk. Would you believe it had been a while since I’ve done anything as crazy as meeting someone at our royal events and fully shagging them during it?”

Lillian wanted to believe Loki, but she wasn’t certain of anything. She had seen the ladies he had been talking to earlier, and she had succumbed to his swagger…

“Maybe?” Lillian finally shrugged while using one of the many library mirrors to check her still slightly messed up hair.

Loki stepped towards her, “I assure you, I am not lying. Much like yourself, It has been quite a while since anyone and especially a while since a human.”

Lillian wondered how to handle this and how to process one of the best orgasms of her life without jumping back into his arms and taking his clothes off once again while being the official royal journalist and having to write about this man!

Loki was also thinking about this new connection he had just made.

“We will be seeing one another quite a bit while you are writing this book, so we better find a way to keep this, us, um you know keep our relationship professional,” Loki offered.

“True enough Prince Loki, I’ll be looking into many closets and sweeping under the stairs, as they say; that’s going to be hard work. We shouldn’t complicate it by, um, continuing anything between us.”

“Oh! I didn’t mean stop seeing one another; we just have to keep it hidden.”

He said with yet another wink. This must be his thing, Lillian thought.

“Oh,” Lillian said, stepping closer to Loki and grabbing him by his leather collar.

“In that case,” she looked over her shoulder quickly to make sure no one was around, and Thor hadn’t yet arrived back with more of the famed Asgardian mead.

She then turned Loki’s head towards hers and kissed him deeply. She spun around and left the open door, leaving Loki speechless for once.

“Wait, what about more punch?” He called to Lillian.

But she was gone, heading back to the ball with a smile bigger than Ohio across her face.

On to Chapter 3

[aerosiderwrites]

Archery Practice ... Yandere Childe x Harbinger!Reader

warnings for genre typical portrayals of unhealthy relationships... ngl childe is kinda tame in this one tho

Word Count: 2k

Mid-evening tended to be an unpopular time to train. Most were having dinner, finishing their work day, and getting ready for as restful night as possible in the frigid climate of Snezhnaya. You typically would as well, but with a lot to reflect on and frustrated energy, you brushed off the snow on your person as you entered a Fatui training facility. You gave a quiet greeting to the guards who manned the building, who stood at attention at your arrival. You paid them no second thought as you began to navigate the pristine building.

You followed a path down the corridors you knew by heart, as even years before your ascension to being a Harbinger you found yourself here more than at home whenever your weren’t on assignment. Most windows into the various gyms were dark, and the ones with people in them had young recruits of little consequence to you.

You turned a corner when you heard someone calling for you. You processed the distinct voice as Childe, the most recent addition to the Harbingers. You ignored him, hoping that your increase in pace would not catch his attention. You mentally pleaded that he would avoid the archery range in favor of the other combat gyms.

He didn’t stop, as he never did, as his voice continued to come your way. You closed your eyes in weak attempt to hide your wince as he addressed you by name, by your real name, not your Harbinger title as the other nine would.

You stopped dead and turned to where he was trailing behind you and gave him your attention, unfortunately rewarding his bad behavior, “Titles only, Childe.”

“I wasn’t sure you could hear me” Childe responded, now standing tall right in front of you, his smile still the same, ignoring or otherwise completely unbothered by the standoffishness on your end. “I wanted to see if you wanted to spar while you’re here.”

Like clockwork. Every damn time you came in here and he was here too he’d ask. Each time you’d say no. Each time he’d hover around you until one of you had to leave. It had worked for the other Harbingers, as he now paid them no mind but for whatever reason, he still engaged with you. Tonight, you hoped your verifiable excuse and unfriendly aura would be the last straw for him.

“I’m just going to be doing target practice today,” you said, hoping to deter him. “I don’t want to do anything too strenuous today.”

“Oh you are? Do you mind if I join you?”

You blinked, “I didn’t know you knew how to use a bow,” you verbally dug your heels into the ground, even though you knew he could just walk into the range and practice along side you if he so wanted. There were no restrictions to who could use what when, but you desperately wished he would take a hint and leave you alone.

“I’ve been practicing on my own more recently, actually,” explained Childe, “And considering you’re the best archer among us, I can’t imagine having a better training partner.”

You narrowed your eyes at his compliment, while delivered earnestly, you couldn’t help but interpret his words as being subtly facetious. Since Childe sidestepped your frustrated hint with ease, you relented with a sigh, “Do as you please.”

The two of you headed to an archery range, Childe walking along side you, while you stewed in silent annoyance. So much for introspection time.

No one quite knew how to pester quite like Tartaglia. It was the popular opinion among the other Harbingers that the 11th was obnoxious. While you and your contemporaries preferred to work in the shadows and keep the often extreme extents of your servitude to your Archon hush-hush, Tartaglia, or Childe, as he preferred, ended up with a style that was far more akin to a performance. However, unlike most performers, he would make sure that his performance would be the last his audience would ever see.

You stopped in front of a door to the small range, opening it up unceremoniously, and Childe followed close behind. The room lit up, and illuminating the long room with three suspended targets, at three distances. Even with the unwanted company, you stretched and warmed up on autopilot, the silence between you and Childe surprisingly comfortable.

You glanced over, Childe having gone through his warm up routine faster than you. He had called his bow already, and you found yourself gawking at the absolutely abysmal posture he held as he aimed at the closest target, the one on the far left.

His shoulders were hunched and his bow hand gripped the bow in such a way that seemed entirely unsustainable. The arrow sat flimsy in his drawing hand, the only saving grace of the shot being the strength with Childe drew, which was borderline disturbing. You weren’t sure if he was showing off, or if he genuinely didn’t know to hold back.

You held your tongue as you watched him fire the shot, your eyes barely able to follow as the arrow swiftly embedded itself deep into the target, although the hit was only one by the smallest of margins

You watched him fire two more arrows, the second being a ring outside of the bullseye, and the third a near miss from the top. Both would be a challenge to pull from the targets as the fletching of the arrows were barely all that stuck out.

“See, I have a problem with being consistent in the hits I land,” Childe sighed, aware that you were observing, “What would you recommend?”

You took a deep inhale, “I think most children who pick up bows for the first time don’t have posture as bad as you.”

Childe flinched, his body language exaggerated, a pout resembling a kicked puppy having formed on his face, “Cut me some slack, I’m self taught!”

You remained unrelenting in your onslaught, “That’s obvious,” you scoffed, “You put way to much strength into the draw, especially when you can barely hold the bow itself. I’m amazed you hit the target at all.”

As as satisfying as it was to drag his form through the mud, Childe’s hurt expression only seemed to deepen, and you let yourself be worn down. “Draw the empty string, I’ll tell you what you need to fix.”

He did as you asked, and you rationalized to yourself that you were ultimately helping the Tsaritsa if you assisted Childe here. If he were ever stuck in a situation where he could only use a bow, you didn’t want him to be caught with his pants down. As invasive as he was, you didn’t want him to die or anything.

You lightly tapped his upper back, “Don’t hunch.” He fixed himself quickly. You moved his elbow up on his drawing arm, and went around to bend his elbow on his bow arm, going in quickly, and touching his as little as possible. You gave explanations for why each mistake would be detrimental for any kind of combat, and how to develop instinctive shooting, while making him maintain proper posture.

You were surprised how well he seemed to internalize what you explained, and you didn’t stop yourself from going into more detail than was feasibly retainable, but he stayed attentive, and showed a passion you weren’t expecting. You eased into a comfortable rhythm, and with rudimentary fixes, Childe was able to improve.

Time passed quickly, your engagement far more than either of you had expected. Childe had been trying to gauge you for a long time, but your persistence into giving him as little as possible became entertaining in and of itself. He enjoyed the open resentment of the other Harbingers, and before you had let your shell crack, he had enjoyed yours just as much.

Your patience with any mistakes was unexpected, your exasperation and irritation with his presence having dissipated entirely as you focused on helping him despite yourself. It was endearing seeing this side of you, a side that showed itself with surprisingly little prodding or string-pulling. It felt… natural, and unfortunately for you, it was also very endearing.

“Hey, [Y/N],” he started, interrupting a demonstration you had started about sights, earning a surprised look from you as he got your attention.

It took a split second, but you noticed he used your name instead of your title, your guard went back up, and you narrowed your eyes at him, “Don’t speak informally with me, use my title, Tartaglia.” You hissed out, using his official title instead of his preferred to emphasize your distance.

“Why? You can call me Ajax,” he offered, testing the barrier you set up. He hid his surprise when you hesitated, pursing your lips. He saw through how you tried to treat him apathetically, and forced yourself to be unkind to him. You were so much softer than you wanted anyone else to be privy to, and Childe was excited to exploit it.

In your own head, you had reached a conclusion that you weren’t sure he had reached, or if he even noticed in himself. You could have been way off, but as someone so at odds with his peers, seen as a tool by his superior, and feared by enemies and underlings alike, the pieces fit in your head and spelled out the fact that Childe was probably lonely.

Realizations clicked together quickly upon this conclusion, but you kept them to yourself.

“I won’t,” you maintained, refusing to let up. You couldn’t stop sympathy and understanding from now changing the tint of your interactions or how you viewed them, but you didn’t have to let him know any of that. Childe wasn’t your business, no matter how much he wanted to be.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Childe cooed, holding back a patronizing urge to pinch your angry cheeks, “I just wanted to ask why you’re helping me, since you seem to dislike me so much.”

You shifted your weight where you stood, “I don’t think you’d leave me alone either way.”

“That hasn’t stopped you from ignoring me before.”

Resentment bubbled in your chest, “So you are aware that you’re a pest.”

“Only because I like you.”

You were baffled that he could just say something that familiar, and you hoped any warmth that showed itself on you wouldn’t be interpreted as anything other than embarrassment on his behalf. “Well, stop.”

Childe seemed more amused than anything at your words, it only feeding into his idea that you’re just playing hard to get, “Am I really so unlikable?”

“You have no idea.” Any understanding you gained during your interactions being emotionally tossed to the wayside as your couldn’t bring yourself to care about someone with such a deliberate lack of regard for boundaries.

You disarmed yourself and made way to the door, pulling it open only for it to shut fast before you could blink. Your eyes followed the gloved hand that slammed it shut, Childe now far closer than you have ever let him get before.

You didn't want to turn around, and when you did you found yourself regretting it. His eyes were cold, completely unamused at your intent to leave while he was enjoying your company so much. He didn't mind a chase, but he needed you to realize that he was serious, and very difficult to deter.

If being pleasant and fun wouldn't get you to loosen up, he could change his approach until you changed your mind.

It had been a very long time since you felt this small. You’ve always been aware of Childe’s strength, but at the end of the day, despite his irritating nature, he was an ally. Or was. In that moment you looked up to see his lighthearted facade disappear so completely, you understood that regardless of your allegiance to your Archon, he was a threat.

“Don’t go, I still have so much I’d like to learn from you, [Y/N].”

[burnedbyshoto]

go the distance

(will you) go the distance

— You’re perfectly content in life except for the fact that you are not dating Deku. When his best friend won’t help you out, you turn to the dark side to get what you want.

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pairing: pro hero!midoriya izuku x bad villain!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, manga spoilers, pro hero!au, villain!reader, ofa usage for sex lol, size difference, manhandling, public sex, slight degradation and praise, deku eats his cum outta ya pussy, big dick deku, corruption but make it opposite, deku is a pervert change my mind

word count: 12,715

a/n: well, yall already knew I wanted to make this fic a reality, so here it is for bnharems villain collab!! check out all the already amazing stories if you haven’t already. thank you to kara, sky, and jo for reading this for me because lmao im ass rn. I’m gonna go to bed because I partied a bit too hard last night.

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your quirk: distortion – can make afflicted persons vision shift 6 cm to the left or right at the cost of having their own vision shift the same way

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“Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcasted rumors of a villain running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures, and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. 

“Road maintenance endeavors to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before. 

“Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city? 

“Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved, but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city, please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary. One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.”

The female reporter closes her eyes, despite still being on the air, her eyebrows furrowed as she exasperatedly sighs.

“Was that good enough, Mirage?”

You look at her with a pout, your eyes then clenching shut as your lips move with unsaid words as you motion for the cameras to stop rolling. You tilt your head right and left, muttering a bit.

“Did that seem better to you this time? I don’t know, I don’t think it was scary enough...”

You open your eyes to see the exasperated reporter looking at you as if she personally sought to end you right where you were sitting.

“You are the worst villain I’ve ever encountered,” she deadpans, and you laugh in agreement.

.

.

.

You weren’t really a villain.

If you must put a label on what you were, you would say that you were the best PR head any hero agency could ask for. You were, after all, the top student graduate from UA’s Business Course and had been ushered into a condensed agency the moment you were finished taking your graduation pictures. 

And well, if you are actually curious about the… villainy, you would like to uphold and continue to stress that you weren’t a villain! You were just a public nuisance – like those stupid YouTubers – with the ability to garner Pro Heroes’ attention! People had no reason to scoff at what you did on the daily.

You took both of these jobs very seriously!

It was like being straight out of a comic for you!

A simple – hopefully should the heroes you’re in charge of not be stupid – nine to five job by day, and a badass, crime-committing, sexy as shit villain by night! How could anyone ever hate you for your lifestyle! How could anyone ever hate you?!

But we are all noisy people, and everyone wondered just why you became a villain because you had a beautifully stable job with an impressive salary! Why would such an amazing woman such as yourself dabble in the evilness of humanity? 

Well, you did have an answer for the public.

“Why do you engage in evil, villainous schemes?” the reporter deadpans, absolutely and utterly not being paid enough to humor you in this forced interview.

The public loved drama, pizazz, a little showmanship even from what they deemed humanities worst! So, you told the world why you chose to be evil instead of good:

“Because I want to be!” you grin, flashing a pose as you make your away from the interviewer you had very much illegally forced to interview you. “And because a hero killed my cat!’

Of course, that was a lie! Why would you ever hand over the real reason as to why you decided to become a villain! You’d be laughed right out of Japan, possibly be murdered by a horde of fangirls!

For you see, there was one reason and one reason alone as to why you decided to take your place within the villainy hall of fame. Why you chose to do more in your day outside of your already demanding job.

And that one reason was: Pro Hero Deku, civilian name Midoriya Izuku.

Now, trying not to come off as some creepy, weirdo, stalker fangirl, you could fully admit that you were in love with the stupidly large hunk of a man that debuted as an official pro a year before you graduated from high school. 

You remember how the world was finally recovering from the year-long nightmare that had ensued. To be honest, you were stupidly surprised you had even managed to graduate, given that most of schooling had become somewhat of a joke.

FIVE YEARS AGO, MARCH, 2XXX:

It had been in the evening, the clear blue sky becoming ruby red and blood orange as you made your way out of campus. The air somehow smelled of sweet hay and gasoline, but you didn’t mind. There was hardly anyone out at this time, most students had made their way home already, and the only sounds were the moving cars of businessmen just trying to get back home.

There really wasn’t any reason to suspect anything to go wrong, this was a simple daily walk back home after school that wasn’t like any other. But then there had been a loud pop, an ever louder screech, and finally, you managed to whip your head in time to see a car tumbling through the air straight at you. 

There was hardly any time to think, even less to react, and the only thing you knew was that you were not going to survive.

You braced yourself, eyes clenching and body curling, your mind screaming because this was not going to be the way things ended. But before it could happen, before the car could come down upon you and squish you like a bug under a shoe, something picked you up and you were weightless.

Waiting for an impact that never came, the tears that were endlessly streaming down your face were suddenly stopped by rough, warm fingers smoothly wiping them away.

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re safe now!” a voice says softly to you, endearingly warm and comforting. “I’m here, don’t worry.”

“Am I… did I die?” you whisper, unsure if you even want the answer, your eyes remaining closed because you refused to open them up to some angel that could confirm your death. “God, what an embarrassing way to die!”

“Oh – um, no! You’re not dead! I promise!” the voice laughs brightly, just softly enough that you believe him and not be entirely horrified by the amused reaction. Your eyes crack open slowly, just barely peering back into the world, still half praying you weren’t dead. But all you saw was green. 

Green eyes, green hair, green clothes.

You blink, once, twice, realizing only then you were staring into the eyes of a boy about your age.

He had curly hair, freckles littering his face, and eyes that easily pierced through your very soul.

Without meaning to, your breath stopped, frozen in your lungs as you were captivated by a handsome man with a curving, beautiful smile. 

“See, I told you it was okay!” he teased you, head cocking to the side as he grinned largely.

The action itself seemed to strangle the strangest noise out of your mouth as you realized suddenly and immediately that your face was burning and all you could think was:

A cute hero rescued me, a cute hero rescued me, a cute hero rescued me, acuteherorescuedme!

“Sorry about that scare! I would’ve caught that car sooner, but I wasn’t paying attention to who was around!” the green boy apologized, bowing deeply in front of you in his apology. “There’s a commotion just up ahead, so I recommend you take the next road over.”

You nod numbly, unable to conjure even the slightest hint of your voice again as he stood up to his full length. He was average in height it seemed, taller than you, but still not towering. The hero looked behind his shoulder, those big green eyes focusing onto the distance, onto something you couldn’t even begin to imagine – or see, really. He blinked and turned back to you, smile gone but the gentle aura to him remained, but now his face, his mouth, was underlined with a sense of urgency and engagement to whatever sent a vehicle tumbling your way.

“Which train do you take home?” he asked, eyebrows relaxing from his stern position, as his smile picked up again. “I’ll take you closer to your station!”

“B train,” you manage to wheeze out – unable to be the reason why he was held up but also confused as to just what he could do to get you closer to the station that was at least a mile away from here.

“Perfect! I know where that is!” he laughs for just a moment, and before you could even ask if this was going to be some escorted thing – because you definitely did not need it – his arms were fastly secured around you, and suddenly you were weightless.

A cold wind rushed against your face, nipping at your nose, cheeks, and ears, sending your hair flying around – into your mouth! Oh, you were screaming! You were soaring through the skyline, being held by some hero you couldn’t name, and you were screeching at the top of your lungs.

Making the mistake of looking down, your arms were suddenly around his shoulders, your voice growing even sharper and louder as you squeezed against his body and refused to let go. His hands, despite the gloves, were warm on your back, and his soft chuckle warming you from nose to toes as he secured his grip on you.

“I got you,” he spoke, “I won’t let you go, I promise.”

Those words don’t exactly ease you, but there’s a comfort to the genuinity to his words. You nod nonetheless, your face buried deep into his neck. The cold wind continues to whip around you, the only thing sounding in your ears is the cruel whipping wind and quiet city below.

“I’m landing now,” he informed you, body shifting in the wind, and reflexively, you clung even tighter to him, expecting the similar stomach dropping motion of a roller coaster going straight down. “You’re – ack – c-choking me!”

The knowledge of that, hearing the strain and entirely unhidden sound of him choking against the current chokehold you had on him, you released him entirely with a shriek of your own. Was it a smart move? No, definitely not because you were how many hundreds – if not thousands – of feet in the air with a quirk that could not, and would not save you.

“It’s okay! I’m fine!” he quickly said, his arms shifting around your waist as you felt your body weight drop just the smallest bit. To which your focus landed to the concrete floor so far down, and you began screaming again. He panicked just a bit too. “Y-You’re okay too! We’re landing! We’re landing!”

Soon, but not soon enough, the concrete floor came underneath your feet, and you practically felt your knees buckle underneath you. The train station behind you was practically invisible, and you felt the floor come in contact with your knees, and you collapsed onto your hands and knees. You could feel the tears streaming down your face as you wheezed and panted, unable to move from your position. 

“Hey, look, we made it!” he laughed gently, probably being said in hopes that you would feel better. (It did make you feel slightly better, his laugh was light and pretty to listen to.) You could feel him approaching you, iron covered red shoes appearing before your vision. Looking up, you saw that the young hero was crouching, his face holding a wobbly smile that was earnest, worried, and full of unspoken hope. “I do need to get back, but before I do, are you good enough to be left alone?”

You blinked your soaked eyelashes at him, still largely unable to say anything at the cute hero in front of you who had a few scratches on his cheek, right below his freckles.

“Y-Yeah, um,” you say, your tongue cotten and lead in your dry mouth. “I-I’ll be fine, I think.”

The green eyed hero nods, offering you a hand and assisting you to your trembling legs, “That’s good to hear!” he chirped, his wobbly smile becoming a grand, bright grin. “You were really brave! I was impressed!”

Now, you were an idiot at times, but even you could spot a stupid lie. Still, hearing it said with such honesty, as if this hero who was no taller than five foot eight truly believed it, made something bubble in your chest, and soon you found yourself laughing.

“No need to lie to me, h-hero,” you manage to speak between stammering breaths, “thank you for saving me, though. I appreciate it.”

You grin crookedly at him, and to your utter delight, he reciprocates it.

“It’s the least I can do. I’d offer to take you home but… I’m not quite finished yet,” he says, and you can only nod, the conversation obviously reaching its last strides. You watch as he floats up, his eyes looking at you, but somehow focused how many miles away from where he had brought you from. “Stay safe?”

“I’ll try my best,” you agree to his question, hands clasping before your lap. “Finish the job quick, hero?”

He grins, “I’ll try my best.”

You feel a breathless sort of laugh escape you as you watch him beginning to shoot back up, but a sort of horror shoots through you as you rush forward, running right after him, hands cupping around your mouth as you scream:

“What’s your name?!”

The blur of green in the air freezes, and you stop running as you see green eyes and freckles focusing back onto you.

“Deku! My hero name is Deku!”

You stop at the curb of the street, eyes focused on the sky as the green eyed hero named Deku grins one last time before shooting off at a speed probably much faster than when he held onto you. The wind blows around you, and you can only feel the heat sitting on your cheeks and the way you’re smiling as you stare after his figure that's long, long gone.

“Deku...” you whisper to yourself, ignorant to the world of commuters beginning to appear at the station. “Thank you.”

And thus came the very apparent and obvious day in which you fell head over heels for Pro Hero Deku.

Now some people called you a stupid fangirl, obsessive stalker, and sometimes, yeah, you were obsessive and weird about your slight infatuation with a stranger. It was strange, you knew that! But you also knew that you had practically no chances of ever being able to woe the man behind the image of Deku because Midoriya Izuku practically existed as Deku 24/7.

After you graduated from high school, you were put into the same agency that was currently holding Deku. Without tooting your own rom-com obsessed horn too much, you fully expected to walk in and be handed Deku’s file as his PR manager and be able to thank him for not only saving you all that time ago, but also eventually sweep him off his feet. 

But your reputation preceded you well, probably too well, because the first day you entered the office and was handed your list of three clients to work with, neither one was for Deku. Being a PR manager for heroes was hard, a job that practically held no set hours because, unlike your typical celebrities, heroes had no type of privacy or protection. They were constantly under the spotlight, being viewed by adoring fans and scornful critics. Your job served as the first line of defense for heroes against the public, and there were some heroes that were quite hilariously easy to work for because they were genuinely good.

The older PR managers typically held the quieter, easy tempered, or less combat heavy heroes. These heroes typically never had a bad thing said about them, their job was a glorified PA job but even less because there was no expected demands from the heroes they had to take in. Unless, of course, a hero wanted to do some sort of public event they hadn’t considered. 

But there were the louder, quick to temper, or the heavy combat heroes that while made you an insane amount of money, also brought you a near 120 hour work week because there was so much to do, so much to consider, so much to keep your eyes on. There was the constant slander, the people who hated the louder, quick to temper heroes because they didn’t like their attitude, completely disregarding that they had been unsafe and a liability the entire time the hero was dealing with them. The talk shows that took months to convince to allow for an interview because they heard false rumors, and so you have to practically wrestle a boa constrictor to get a measly five minute interview done. And then the combat-heavy heroes… no one would ever shut up about building damages and how this hero broke his nose while he was stealing a store! 

Not to mention having to have every single piece of social media on your phone, set to notify you whenever your clients names were brought up so that you could look at it. You’ve seen more than enough lewd drawings of your clients to last you a lifetime, enough fanfiction, and fan edits that left you with blazing cheeks and the need to never look at your client ever again. But mostly you checked each and every update because you were their first and only line of legal defense on these sorts of things.

You’ve taken down leaked nudes, fake news, and qualmed rumors and speculations.

It was hard.

So when you were shown to your desk on your first day and three files were handed to you, you were shocked to see the hero names you would be working with.

Dynamight

Phantom Thief

Shouto

Somehow, without having yet to speak with a single one of your now current clients, you knew that you were going to have your work cut out for you.

“Good luck newbie!” the woman who gave you the initial tour chirped, clapping you on the back. “You got this!”

Good lord.

Without much to do other than reading through the three’s files, you realized that you already knew a bunch about two of three of your clients. DynaMight and Shouto were two heroes that you knew teamed up with and hung out with Deku a lot, both on-field and off-field if any of the out of costume pictures said anything. Because of their connection with Deku, you had at one point learned a bit about them.

You knew that Shouto was a crowd favorite. He was tall and sweet and a complete airhead at the best moments despite him being smart. Controversy still surrounded his character, despite all the good he did, because of the past history that was brought out about his father Endeavor and his brother Dabi. The country couldn’t figure out where they stood in terms of that reveal. Endeavor did a lot before the reveal, and continued to rise up to everything in his path despite the skeletons in his closet being thrown out for the world to see. They neither forgave him, nor hated him, they only watched and waited. Then Dabi, of course, was seen as a could-have-been version of Shouto, and many tried to ask if he was really a hero and not actually siding with the League. After all, why on Earth would he be defensive of his father too?

The public had an unmoving image of Shouto based on anything but who he was as an individual, and you decided immediately that it would be your job to fix that. He was also, after all, a dear friend of Deku, so you’d do anything.

Phantom Thief was your easiest of the three clients. A relatively well mannered man who was kind and a bit weird in a fun way. He had a great sense of self and was a reliable person on the field. He made a great hero, but you could see the way his spirit blazed with an unspoken rivalry between him and the other two of your clients. Well, it seemed like he was the best until his former self appointed rivals came into the picture, but that was hardly ever, and according to Shouto, he was way worse back in their first year. 

The greatest scandal he’s had so far in your three years of working at their agency was the one time he was lied to about a quirk and accidentally copied a woman's quirk that gave her the ability to change her cup size. Safe to say that Phantom Thief accidentally broke a few buttons on his shirt and was unable to stop civilians from snapping pictures. 

But of course, the one that had you practically crying yourself to sleep nightly for more than one reason was Dynamight.

You’d known about him the moment you looked up Deku on your phone.

They were practically a hero duo in everything but name. They were always seen doing the same things together, whether that be on patrol together or maybe getting dinner, most of their top recorded fights were done with each other by their sides. You had also learned that they were childhood friends, and you practically vibrated at the thought that even though Deku was not your client, the chances of meeting him were still astronomically high.

There was no way you wouldn’t not meet Deku!

But you were wrong, so very, very wrong.

Turns out the hero duo in everything but name meant that Dynamight refused to let Deku be anywhere near him in the agency – the very small amount of time they spent in here. The few times they were in the same room, Dynamight absolutely refused to be interrupted because that was their paperwork hour. You had only ever been blessed with seeing green curls turning the corner as Dynamight gripped your forearm, refusing to let you follow.

“Like hell I’ll let you distract the shitnerd,” he stated simply, his red eyes narrowed as he stared down his nose at you. You opened your mouth, ready to defend your not so innocent intentions. “I’m not stupid, so don’t pretend like you won’t try anything.”

Your jaw snapped shut.

Safe to say that you couldn’t do anything about Deku so long as Dynamight was around.

But Dynamight as a client was exhausting to put it kindly.

There were so many opinions and thoughts and issues and praises coming from everywhere. Hell, even the fucking Americans and westerners had caught wind of the Wonder Duo at one point and while you were well knowledgable on their opinions on Deku, the ones on Dynamight were the ones that you had to focus on now.

People still called him a villain, so many unhappy with the fact that he still screamed and cursed and threatened. There were many conspiracy theories that he was working with the long dead League of Villains. They turned their nose up at the fact that he was childhood friends with Deku, claiming that no way an asshole like him could have ever been friends with him. And of course the bullying revelation that had come out shortly after your debut. 

That had been a trip, one that had you even shocked as Dynamight approached the table in front of the media, his body calm and composed. You had watched as he simply said he owed nothing to the media, that he had already done all that he could to deserve his atonement and deserve Deku’s forgiveness. He had spoken clearly, concisely that it wasn’t any of their damn business as to what he did, and if he apologized to them, the unaffected, the ones that had nothing to do with his early years of bullying Deku, of his previous weakness and insecurity, it would be a waste of his breath. 

It isn’t to them he should ever be apologizing to anyways.

You had watched as he stood up, face calm, and hands shoved into his pockets as he stood and walked away despite the screaming reporters. You had wanted to stay longer, have your own hand in damage control, but a swoop of green came in and Deku was at the microphone eyebrows furrowed as he pointed a finger at them all and said that his past with Kacchan was between him and Kacchan only, and his decision to forgive Kacchan were his and only his.

You didn’t hear the rest, didn’t even get the option to hear the way the hero you loved defended the hero you worked for – his childhood friend.

No.

Dynamight had grabbed your elbow and dragged you out of the room with him, the metal doors clanging closed the moment fierce green eyes met yours.

You watched in the company car as Dynamight looked outside the window, one elbow on the doorframe holding his chin; his gaze focused sharply on nothing but the passing sidewalk. Had it not been for the way the hand on top of his lap trembled, you would have thought he was perfectly okay.

Neither one of you talked about that again.

But just because you didn’t talk about it again, didn’t mean the world was the same. People claimed he brainwashed Deku, others demanded that Deku beat the shit out of Dynamight. You knew that Dynamight would want nothing to do with this, but you would stay in the office (an almost useless, empty office as most PR managers did their business at home) for hours long after you were supposed to be gone, practically arguing with someone who only existed behind a screen and didn’t even care that much – but you couldn’t stop.

Seeing Dynamight’s shaking hand had really done a number on you.

“The hell are you still doing here, eyelashes,” Dynamite asked from the dark entrance of the floor. “Go home already, don’t waste your time.”

You had startled at the initial intrusion, but you immediately relaxed seeing the smudged paint around red eyes and blond hair. You barely kept your gaze on him before turning back to your computer and continuing your argument.

“I’m not wasting my time, I’m doing my job,” you remark, eyes squinting at your keyboard because your vision is definitely blurry. “I’ll be heading out soon anyways.”

“God you’re fucking annoying and stubborn!” Dynamight barked, the heel of his hand slamming into his forehead. “This is exactly why I won’t introduce you to the fucking nerd!” 

“What?!” you shriek, suddenly looking at your client as if he had personally attacked you – and in a way he did. “What do you mean you won’t introduce me to Deku because of that?! I’ve already met Red Riot, Chargebolt, Cellophane, and Pinky through you!”

“Yeah, because they’re not stubborn idiots too!” Dynamight accuses, jamming a gloved finger at you as he begins stomping your way. You startle, your chair shooting backward as the explosion hero makes his way towards you at alarming speed.

“What are you—?!” you shriek, hands flailing about as he grabs you by the collar of your distressed shirt.

Dynamight lifts you up to your feet as if you were a sack of flour and you grasp onto his forearm.

“I might tell you that you’re the most annoying and stubborn bitch in the world, but you’re not worse than fucking Deku,” Dynamight sneers, his red eyes narrowed and stern. “I’m not going to let you meet him until you learn how to give or you’ll hurt him, and I’m not going to be part of any reason as to why he gets hurt again.”

Your jaw dropped, clearly offended, but you closed it just as fast; the weight of his words made you a bit sad, even for just a bit.

“You’re kinda cute when you care for Deku, you sure I’m his biggest fan?” you tease, grinning at the hero to which he rolls his eyes.

“Shut the hell up and go home already; it’s annoying seeing you fight a losing battle that’s none of your damn business,” Dynamight simply said, putting you back onto your feet and blocking out your desk. 

“I’ll go home on the condition that for my birthday you at least consider introducing us!” you say, unwilling to move from your spot. “I’ve been working for you for three years! You’ve kept me away for three years!”

Dynamight’s stare didn’t even shift the slightest millimeter, his red eyes unamused as you groaned in grief and annoyance.

“I’m stubborn? Have you met yourself?!” you grumble snatching your jacket and purse from the hook on your cubicle and shoving them on. “My names God of Explosion Murder: Dynamight and I am Stubborn™ but will never admit it.”

You continued mocking your long time client and most definitely friend if you dared to say so, and dragged the heel of your foot all the way to the elevator to which you were joined by Dynamight. The trip down the elevator is silent, and you keep your gaze locked on the closed doors, unwilling to even look at the hero next to you.

Soon enough, the elevator reached the ground floor, and you got ready to walk out.

“I’ll consider it,” Dynamight said as the elevator doors opened. “Also, fucking stop calling me Dynamight, Bakugou’s fine.”

He walked off the elevator with his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants.

“Thank you, Bakugou!” you shriek, your lungs failing you at the thought of finally being introduced to Deku! You hadn’t moved from your spot from the elevator, your chest hammering with the thought of getting to meet Deku.

“Don’t get your hopes up, you’re still irritatingly stubborn,” Bakugou merely calls over his shoulder before lifting his hand in a halfhearted wave before stepping out of the glass door.

That brought you back to reality just a bit and you scowled, knowing you would have to go beyond and above to prove that. 

But you see, there were many reasons to cry about having Bakugou as your client. Besides the stinkhole of his previous bullying, people just were not understanding his typically prickly exterior. You had to go head to head with reputation tarnished, had to slap fangirls away who demanded that Bakugou degrade them where they stood. It was hard to not be stubborn as not only his PR manager but his friend, and in less than a month, still plenty of time before your birthday, you had already grown irritated of the meeting-Deku-card he waved over your head.

“Mei, if I have to go any longer than this, I will die and hope I am reborn as Deku’s new guardian angel,” you pouted, chin pressed against a cold metal tabletop. Your hands being used as glove models for one of your best friends Hatsume Mei. “It’s first of all��impossible getting anywhere near him with his guard dog Bakugou literally stopping me whenever I’m within a ten foot radius! And then I’m not even sure what will happen when we do meet again! Would I even be able to talk to him?!”

“Why wouldn’t you? You talk to all my babies with me! There’s practically nothing you can’t do,” Mei laughs, smacking you against your back before returning her intense gaze back to the gloves. “Deku’s uh… I actually can’t remember him but I’m sure he’s a great conversationalist! I think he helped me with the Sports Festival my first year.”

 “That was Iida,” you laugh, wiggling your fingers as Mei demanded. “You’re so bad with names and faces, I’m impressed you know mine.”

“You saved my baby, of course I remember you,” Mei turned her grin towards you, “but come on, why can’t you get with him besides this Bakugou guy?”

“Well, he’s just like Bakugou! He’s practically married to his job! Their schedules basically match together perfectly! There’s literally only three hours a day while they’re on the job that they’re not together! And that’s when they patrol their own parts of town because there’s hardly any activity they don’t need to be attached by the neck.” You explain and rant, your cheeks puffing as you stand up and allow Mei to run further tests on the glove. 

“Sounds like you gotta become a villain to woo this hero guy, huh,” Mei spoke, eyes focused on the glove as you pointed a finger at the far wall and watched as a beam exploded from the fingertip and pierced through the steel wall like butter. “Too bad you’re a goody two-shoes or else I could make you some serious villain gear and make you a fearsome villain to then prove that Hatusme Mei’s babies and creations are untouchable and the best in the world! Muah-ha-ha-ha!”

You know her words are more joking than serious, but that doesn’t stop your eyes from widening. Your body shifts over to where she was standing and you screech pointing at her and just narrowly missing setting off the laser again. 

“THAT'S IT!”

“What’s it?” she asked, completely confused.

“You have to make me a villain!” you exclaim, rushing over to Mei, who is eagerly waiting for her babies returnal especially since it ran perfectly. “You have to make me near-invisible gear that can keep me going toe to toe with Deku until I can seduce him!”

“You want to turn evil?” Mei questions, finger pressing quizzically to her chin. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“I am definitely not villainous to pull that off, but like I pretend to be a villain so that he talks to me and we can like get to know each other!” you exclaim, you’re unable to keep from hopping up and down on your feet, your grin unfathomably bright. “It's practically a romcom in the making!”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Mei laughs, altering the band of fabric around your waist. “You do know heroes and villains hardly speak? It’s more like… ‘I’m more powerful,’ ‘No me!,’ ‘No, ME!’”

“Um, I’m pretty sure that’s not true, but whatever! I’ll figure out a way!” you continue on unaffected because this plan was genius! Especially if you had Mei in your corner?! Her recent development of not using such… steampunk designs made her creations elusive and dangerous to own. Hence why she was an extremely sought out manufacturer, by villains and heroes alike. “And if I can go toe to toe with Deku of all people, you’ll know that you and your babies are the undeniable best!”

“Hm, that is promising,” Mei agrees with a nod as she forces you around. “Is this Deku guy all that good?”

“He’s the one you made the iron soles for!” you chirp and watch as the recognition and challenge spark immediately in Mei’s yellow eyes.

“Oh,” Mei chuckles, turning away from you and looking at her pile of made babies. “This would be good.”

“So we have an agreement?” you grin excitedly. 

“Give me a month, and we’ll have your debut!”

Fuck Bakugou for thinking you weren’t good enough!

.

.

.

You hadn’t expected the initial phases of villainy to be quite as hard as it was, if you were being honest. The late nights at Mei’s personal lab made sure to keep your plans a solid secret, but you had to prepare for the wild range of what Deku’s quirk entailed.

There was smoke, something you were already used to working in because of Bakugou and his quirk. You’ve navigated quite a bit in his smog, and as long as you knew where you were, you would be fine. 

There was also that danger sense, which allowed him to know when things were coming – something that shouldn’t be too big an issue considering you weren’t actually attempting to extract danger onto him. 

Blackwhip was a big issue. How far or how much could you do if he even grabbed a hold of you. With sleuthing and the help of Mei having files on everyone's quirks, you were able to find information that blackwhip was a creation made of energy. Meaning that Mei was now making some type of destructing material to lessen the energy of the quirk, allowing for you to escape should he attempt to capture you this way.

Float was stopped by having most of your fights occur within a confined area, which was needed for you anyways! You didn’t need to be caught by anyone else but him! You didn’t actually need to land in jail – you would prefer to not be handled by anyone but Deku, actually.

Then of course the stupid superstrength and superspeed, both of which you knew you could handle with your quirk. You’ve been head to head with people with quirks similar to that before, and you knew your quirk was tricky enough that you’d manage to slip right past his fingers just fine. After all, you knew full and well that the Deku who took down S class villains was worlds quicker than F class villains – aka you.

You would be fine.

But today was day one, first of how many days it would take to get Pro Hero Deku, aka Midoriya Izuku to fall in love with you. 

You were dressed in a black and purple bodysuit that was definitely not inspired by Shego from Kim Possible’s costume. Your hair was dyed purple by a special spray Mei created that would be washed out by the end of the day, but wouldn’t ever give away that it was fake. You wore a mask over your eyes, and grinned seeing that you couldn’t see a fleck of color on your irises. 

Perfect.

And with far too much confidence, nauseating excitement, and unjustified attitude, you marched down towards your first spot, ready and adopting the identity of who you were about to become.

Mirage.

It was time to act. Deku and Dynamight were on different patrol routes right now, and you sent your threat, readying for the moment for the man in green to come in with the desire to stop you. With the very real threat of stealing every puppy within the tristate area being broadcasted within the area unless and hero bests you, you waited for your savior to come and stop you.

“I am here to stop your villainous acts, you villain!” a voice shattered the silence just as it shattered your heart. You looked over your shoulder to see some hero you couldn’t name standing at the other stairwell entrance with his fists clenched and ready to fight. 

You groaned, shoulders crumbling with your well hidden disappointment.

“I wasn’t looking for you!” you exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the flabbergasted hero who was just trying to figure out what was happening. “Where’s Deku?!”

“He’s – he’s not here yet,” he stammers, eyes wide. “It’s not his day anymore to patrol this area?”

“Aw fuck!” you complain, pouting at the realization that you had messed up. “Okay, I’ll be back later, please don’t come back. Bye!”

With a small wave, you easily stepped through the door to the stairwell next to you and left, your threat empty and the hero victorious despite not actually stopping you. And unfortunately, although you had wished and prayed even, this was not the last time a screw up like this would happen.

At the threat of destroying all the cats in the area, you had another hero show up, not Deku, and you groaned and left before they could even finish their call of stopping you.

You then threatened to poison the watering system, to which you found out that Deku was held up at another major villain threat in a different city. You groaned and stomped off after that. 

Then there was the time you swore you would increase the overall temperature of the city per one degree celsius should your demands not be made. Shouto answered that one and you immediately walked away the moment you saw the familiar head of red and white coming your way.

Time and time again you kept being caught by heroes you could not care about, being confronted by no names and nobodies. It was tiring, and Mei was beginning to sigh just the smallest bit whenever you showed up to try yet again.

But you weren’t a quitter!

You would win!

This was your last attempt at getting Deku to notice you.

After threatening to wrap all the citizens in the area with a giant froot by the foot, you were almost sad to say that the heroes ignored your cry for chaos and no one had come to check on you.

You sat outside the building you used as your trap for Deku, pouting into a hot dog that the neighborhood's grandma gave you because you looked like you needed something to eat. It’s a good thing you weren’t actually a villain or else they’d be fucked, you bitterly thought as you took another bite of your food. 

It had been a month of empty, no Deku appearances, and you were going to bite the bullet and pretend to be not stubborn just so stupid Bakugou of all people could introduce you.

You kicked your feet as you sat on the staircase, humming as you watched the empty streets bend with the wind. It was quiet, beautiful, peaceful.

“YOU!” a voice shrieked to your left, and you watched a pudgy, red nosed man racing over towards you, a flash drive clenched in his hands. “TAKE THIS! RUN! DON’T LET THE HEROES TAKE IT!”

You gawked at him, feeling the small plastic device being shoved into your hands as the man collapsed at your feet. You squeaked when you heard a voice yelling stop and you bounced to your feet, turned into the building and raced in.

Your breathing was erratic, heart in your throat as you raced up the stairwell, unable to begin to imagine what the hell the information on the flash drive held. You were practically hyperventilating as you reached the floor you had come to know extremely well, and you stood near the window with shaky hands and legs.

What did you take?!

“I’m going to need that back, I’m afraid,” a low smooth voice said from behind you, and you froze immediately. Old anxiety overcome by a new anxiety, one that made your stomach flip and blood burn. 

Turning around, you felt awestruck to see the one man you’ve been waiting for… for fucking years now, really, to appear before you, finally be there. In the flesh, completely, entirely. Your jaw dropped, your gaze looking down from your clenched hand that held the USB to the way that Deku looked at you with warm eyes that were underlined with steel that made you want to drop to your knees, confess everything, and beg to be his. God, he was so fucking tall. He had only been about five foot eight the last time you had actually talked, and now he was at least a foot taller. His teenager haircut was long gone, now replaced with his curls trimmed at the nape of his neck before filling out on top – not quite an undercut. He had more freckles now, surely. His skin just a bit tanner, a scar trailing from his cheek to his jaw. You knew there were more scars, just as you knew that there were dimples when he smiled.

You wanted to have him between your legs while you begged for mercy, holy shit.

Tucking the USB into your pocket, you tilted your head as you will yourself to relax.

“I went through all the trouble of getting it... I think if I’m going to hand it over quickly, I deserve to know what’s on it, no?” you tease, your confidence coming out of nowhere while a smile spreads ever so largely over your features. Deku’s eyes widened just a bit, shock overcoming his green eyes.

“I’m sorry, but that’s confidential,” Deku stresses, taking a step forward toward you. You click your tongue, taking a step backward while grinning.

“I don’t think that’s what I asked for,” you giggle as you watch Deku’s face go through an array of emotions before settling onto one – curiosity.

“What do you want?” he asked, apparently entirely ready to discuss any and all terms and conditions with you.

“Honestly?” you reply, tapping a gloved finger to your chin as you ‘think.’ Deku, however, nods. His stance relaxing, becoming one of preparedness but not the takedown he had previously entered with.

“A date with you.”

You watch as Deku’s eyes slam wide open, his jaw dropping immediately and he stammered. Oh, how your heart soared and how you felt giddy and wonderful as he seemed to slip and slide on his own tongue!

“A-A date?!” he ends up almost shrieking, his head shaking left and right. “T-That’s a total lie! You can’t possibly – well, no! Please tell me the truth!”

But you were giddy, practically drunk off the fact that you were making the most powerful hero in the world blush like a little schoolboy. You suddenly were on the offensive, stepping towards your hero who was much larger than you with power and drive behind each step. And it must have been the way you stared him down, the way you walked towards him at blank range with such brimming confidence that Deku takes a step back. But it’s something that makes you want to laugh as the heel of his foot gets caught on a raised tile, and you watch the mountain of a man tumble to the floor.

You’re on top of him immediately, hands pressed to his shoulders, knee settling near his crotch with most of your weight so he got the idea to not do anything funny. The USB sits between your fingers, and you lean over his flushed face that looks up at you with wide eyes.

“Actually, I changed my mind, I know what I want,” you say instead, nose ghosting over his. “Everytime I decide to do something… naughty… I want you to be the hero on the case to stop me. You and just you.”

You lean in closer, so close that you could see the specks of gold in his green, green eyes.

Deku hasn’t spoken, and you’re pretty sure his chest isn’t moving as you press your breasts against his.

“Understood, De-ku?”

Your teeth tug at his bottom lip and let go as he nods.

“Good, good,” you grin, sitting up on his chest and taking the USB in your fingers and slipping it into his utility belt. “Take good care of that for me, I’ll see you next time, hero…”

You had only managed to flash a quick wave before disappearing through your usual door, hoping and praying to god that whatever the hell possessed you would continue until you reached Mei’s. It wouldn’t hit you until much, much later than you had stunned Pro Hero Deku speechless within the first meeting.

Hell, you thought giddily as you answered Bakugou’s call about how he probably just got into a bit of a messy situation, maybe you do have the potential to woo him like this. 

.

Thus truly began your descent as the villain Mirage.

.

It was quickly accepted and discovered that the moment you stepped into that costume and colored hair that you were the prey for Deku and Deku only. Most of your interactions with Deku occurred within buildings, and you used Mei’s gear to gain the final laugh each and every time to allow for you to escape. There were times, however, where you could be seen racing through the sky. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop as Deku followed after you, leaping, tumbling, and even catching you at times. 

You flirted with him heavily, allowing yourself to be caught so that you could bat your pretty lashes and press your chest against his. It didn’t matter how professional he was, how good at his job he was, Deku was a pervert – so obviously a pervert it made slipping away almost too easy.

But because you had the world-renowned, world known Pro Hero Deku as the only hero on your case, soon the small block who had to play victims to your horrendous crimes became only a small percentage of people who were watching your crimes. These near daily crimes (or inconveniences/botherings as the people on the internet say to defend you and your actions) are becoming both a worldwide sensation, and so, it took nothing for you to continue having Deku at your feet and the world chipped in. So you agreed to do interviews, forcing uneager reporters to do segments on you so that the hype behind you and Deku’s relationship grew.

You didn’t want him to leave you, not until you got what you wanted, and unless you were an idiot, you were nearly positive you were almost there.

Why would you say that?

Well, a few reasons.

The first came about a week after you had first met Deku again.

You had joyously gathered the means to create a machine to shave down an eighth of an inch of everyone's shoes in the entire country of Japan without their knowledge. You had ever so evilly explained that the point of this was to ensure that for a full day, everyone would feel off and unbalanced but would not know why.

You had said this, grinning widely as you turned around to see Deku standing there attempting to fight off a very amused smile. 

“I don’t think that would be all too evil, Mirage,” he called out to you, arms folding across his chest as he watched you set up the machine to do exactly what you said you would do.

“Mm, that’s what you say now, but just wait until you’re one of the losers stumbling around,” you say back, grinning as you turn around for just a second, wagging the knife at Deku from the distance. 

“Well, regardless, you know I can’t let you do that,” Deku laughs just slightly, and you grin, standing up.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes, so I’m going to have to ask you to stop right there.”

You giggle.

“Make me.”

You’re not sure what happens, but there’s dodging and weaving, spinning and sliding. You’re practically wheezing from how hard you’re laughing as Deku can not manage to land a finger on you with the help of Mei’s items and your quirk. It all comes to an end when instead of dodging, you throw yourself right at him, and Deku has not anticipated that. 

His eyes are wide open and you fiercely grin as he falls back onto the floor, unbalanced and only slightly frantic. You have the knife pointed at his neck, the dull blade sitting gently on his skin.

“So, Deku,” you taunt teasingly, your teeth burying into your bottom lip for just a moment at the sight of the dark flash in his green, beautiful eyes. “Tell me one thing, or I’ll continue on with my vile plans.”

“O-Okay?”

“Are you single?”

The second attempt came a few many weeks later. 

You had gathered about 75 tons of glitter bombs and were in the current process of making them one. You had plans of setting it off over Tokyo so that for practically the rest of eternity, the entire city would have glitter everywhere. The only thing is that you did have to glue the glitter bombs together because, well, no one made super giant ones.

“This is so annoying, there’s glitter everywhere, and I’m only ten glitter bombs in!” you complain to the ‘empty’ room but knowing full and well that Deku had appeared through the broken window at least five minutes ago.

“If it’s annoying to you, then shouldn’t you stop?” Deku replied and you grinned. 

He really couldn’t stay quiet, huh?

“Well, if it’s annoying to me, then that means every one of my victims will also find it annoying. Win-win situation.” you say, turning around towards him and winking. Facing back towards the glitter bombs you scowl, “stupid fucking glue gets everywhere, too!”

“Regardless, you know I can’t let you do that,” Deku said as leveled as he could although you swore you heard a laugh in his voice.

“Just try and stop me,” you reply back stone cold.

You stand up and watch as Deku stands up from the windowsill and sighs just a bit too heavily.

“Guess I have to,” he says and shoots out before you’re well prepared.

Typically, and probably in any other situation, this would have been the end. Pro Hero Deku had come at you with the speed and power as he took out any other Class F criminals, but unfortunately for him, and definitely fortunately for you that glue was EVERYWHERE.

Deku’s hand was stuck onto your arm, and your chest was glued to his stomach, and you swear you never quite got the strawberry Deku references until right now.

The perverted hero burned scarlet, his face practically simmering with heat as your body became undeniably stuck to his. You had to fight off the vindictive smirk, the practically snarling grin as you could feel something hot and heavy twitch at your hip.

“Fuck,” Deku wheezed.

“Fuck, yeah,” you grinned.

.

.

“WHAT?!”

.

.

Deku could not look you in the eyes for about 10 more interactions following that, but you counted that as a win. But undoubtedly, your starred and favorite memory of it all was something that occurred just last week of the current present events.

You had stood on top of a building, threatening the entire government of stealing (i.e., cutting off) the aglet of their shoes and sweaters and then removing all the laces so that it would result in their wasted time and entire humiliation!

“I don’t think most people even know what aglets are, to be honest,” Deku said from behind you. You turned around to see that he was standing there with an unsuppressed grin. “It’s not a good enough threat.”

You go unfazed by his judgement, choosing to instead bat your eyelashes and push your hair behind your ear.

“Not a good enough threat, and yet, you’re still here?” you tease, enjoying the way pink flushes to his cheeks.

“Where else would I be?” he says, and you have to ignore the way your stomach fills with butterflies. 

“You’re not cute when you flirt back,” you deadpan, biting your tongue harshly when he says ‘hey!’ “Enough chit chat, let me kick your ass now and then do what I need to do.”

Unlike probably what is 95% of the time, you made the first move today. 

You were on the offensive, jabbing and weaving, sweeping and punching. Deku’s green eyes were nearly black as he watched you, analyzing and taking in your movements, countering them all without so much of an issue.

“I still don’t get your quirk,” Deku grunted as his hand swiped at the empty air. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“So then you can turn me in to the government who are still salty about their aglets? I don’t think so!” you say with a laugh, rolling out of the way as Deku lunges forward. “Try again, baby, I have full faith that you’ll get it.”

Deku puffed out a chuckle and lunged again, his huge gloved hand swiping at you, with nearly accuracy despite your quirk being on. But… he wasn’t exactly perfect.

RIIIIIIIIIP!

Cold air hit your breast and your jaw dropped as your very exposed breast appeared before you and Deku. Pro Hero Deku had torn the breast of your costume, the costume that you purposefully did not wear a bra for because you had wanted this exact scenario to play out.

“DEKU!” you screech, pretending to be modest and covering your tit as Deku finally yanked himself out of staring at your breast and whipped around. 

“Oh my god, I am so sorry! I didn’t think that was going to happen! I didn’t even mean to look at your boob! It just sort of all happened too fast and it was very shocking! N-Not that you have an ugly boob or anything because actually I think you have a very great boob! But oh my god, I need to shut up please ignore me!” Deku spoke so fast in a matter of five seconds, and you couldn’t even tell him to come back as he sprinted away.

His ears burned red and you swore even as he was gone, you could still see the red of his ears illuminating the sky.

You laugh.

“What a perv.”

And so, we are back to the beginning.

Back to how you forced a local news channel to read your demands so that you could hopefully take your final bow as Mirage forever.

With the threat of having a machine that would make dogs bark at a frequency for hours on end until humans eardrums broke then bleed. You made your way to your typical building and hummed as you waited. 

The world outside was the same as always.

There were a few people out, a few cars driving through the street, and a few birds chirping here and there.

It was peaceful.

“Don’t you think the new reporter thing was a bit dramatic?” Deku chuckled from behind you.

You were used to him approaching like that, used to him trying to portray being elusive and cool. In your opinion, it just made him dorky.

“No such thing as being dramatic when I’m trying to go head to head with the greatest hero ever,” you respond back effortlessly. You spin on your heel and look back at Deku, who is leaning against a doorframe that he most definitely is slouching on so that the top of his head doesn’t hit the frame. “Hi, Deku.”

“Hi, y/l/n,” he says with a soft smile, one that's slightly victorious, one that makes your stomach knot in a pleasant way.

“Ah, you discovered my secret identity,” you observe, grinning as you begin approaching Deku. “Should I be scared?”

“Probably not, I don’t think I could do anything to you,” Deku sighs, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you too. “You’re pretty amazing, y/l/n.”

“Let’s prove that then,” you grin while zipping forward.

As if the both of you knew that this was the end of the line, the final confrontation, the battle this time was different. It was showy, flirty, full of spins and side steps, playing a game of cat and mouse while dodging and weaving. You laughed as blackwhip dissolved around your costume, and you frowned as he began using more of his power to get from point A to point B much quicker.

You’re not quite sure how it happened, what exactly you did wrong, or maybe Deku just finally figured out the pattern you used for your quirk because suddenly you were being tackled from behind. You shrieked as the two of you went down, his body flushed on top of you, his chest pressing to your shoulders. 

The both of you were heaving, panting, completely out of breath from the five minutes you took playing around. He holds your wrists in one hand, pinned above your head, and the other one is on your waist. You were trapped beneath him, unable to move the absolute unit of a man above you, arms and hips weak to his weight. You shoved your hips up, attempting to shift some of his weight off you, but you froze as he choked on a breath by your ear.

Your ass was pressed against something hard, thick, and hot.

Oh.

Ohhh fuck.

It was happening.

Holy fucking shit.

Your breathing hitches as you thrusted your ass up again, confirming you were grinding on what was definitely Deku’s hardening cock. And once again, Deku makes the prettiest, most embarrassed gravelly grunt at the back of his throat and you feel like every strand of resistance and strength snaps.

The hand on your waist pulls you even closer against his crotch, and there's lips pressing against your neck, and you absolutely lose it. 

He kisses your neck sloppily, teeth nipping at your exposed flesh, and you grind against him, moaning and thrusting back as your body feels like it's on fire. He wanted you! He wanted you and your plan to woo him worked!

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” you keen breathlessly. “Wanted you so badly, Deku.”

“Fuck,” Deku curses, his hips thrusting back against your clothed ass with power you couldn’t fucking wait to feel. “I wanted you too. Wanted you so badly, but didn’t think – holy shit.”

His hand that pins your wrists lets go of you, and moves to grab your jaw. You nearly fucking melt as his full lips slam against yours, and you moan as his lips move against yours. There’s something indescribable about how he’s kissing you, the want, the need, the months of suppressed tension bursting through every move and curve of his mouth. It doesn’t matter to you that you’re pressed up against the concrete floor, you feel like you’ve been placed into another world, an area where you can never come back.

Your arm reaches behind you and buries into his soft curls, you tug at them as your ass circles against his thrusting hips. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you whine at the hot, wet muscle in your mouth, and it sends your head spinning. You can’t take it anymore, you need him, want him flushed against your front.

“Can I fuck you?” Deku asks swollen lips pulling away from yours, his mouth frantic and trailing kisses up your cheeks and down your jaw. “Please, I wanna fuck you so bad. Wanna fuck you on the floor and against the wall. Can I make you mine?”

You nod your head frantically, unable to come up with the words to say in order to tell him yes.  

Deku laughs breathlessly and flips you over so that it’s your back against the floor now. 

And just like you want him to, Deku comes down to reclaim your mouth. Hot, open mouthed kisses, teeth tugging at your lips and hands grabbing your waist. His hands are huge against you filling up the space between your hip and your waist without an issue. Your legs wrap around his waist, feeling entirely small underneath him, but entirely ready to be fucked by him.

His lips move expertly against yours, teeth nibbling at your lips, mouth then sucking on your tongue. You can’t keep the continuous moans from leaking out, can’t keep yourself from staying quiet as your eyes flutter open and see green eyes so dark they look black, staring down at you with the intensity of a predator. 

You were his prey, and you would present to him at the drop of a hat.

His body is hot, heat rolling off of his hero costume in waves, making you feel like you were near burning against him. And the heat between his thighs sits at the bottom of your ass, thrusting up and grinding against you so that you don’t forget even for a moment that you are making him this way. 

“I always knew you’d have such a pretty moan,” Deku mumbles as his fingers find the zipper to your costume and begin to tug it down. His lips trail down your neck, biting and nipping at the newly exposed flesh. “Knew you’d look so pretty under me, waiting to be fucked into submission.”

The words spark something within you, your eyes fluttering as your hips grind just a tad bit faster and you whine. 

“Aw, is that what you wanted this entire time, y/l/n?” Deku asks, his grin pressed against your collarbone. “Wanted to be stretched out and fucked until you can’t anymore?”

“I want it,” you gasp, your fingers burying deep into his curls. “I want you, I want it, I want your dick in me already!”

“Not into foreplay?” Deku chuckles just a bit, tongue then tracing up your neck. 

“Oh I am,” you snap, fingers finding the zipper of his own costume. “You can find out later how much I’m into it, but right now, I have been wanting you for years, and you will not make me wait any longer!”

Deku only nods frantically, and it's a mess of limbs, sloppy kisses, and clothes as the both of you strip to nothing. 

Deku’s in between your legs, one hand pressed to the back of your knee, the other gripping what you believe is his dick because it makes everything in the world freeze as you see it. It’s huge, so thick that his hand wraps around it in a nice grip, and it long, curling up to his abs, curved and veiny. 

“Holy shit,” you squeak, your cunt already clenching at the thought of taking that in. 

“Are you ready?” Deku asks, the hand on your leg moving away for a moment as he cards his fingers back through his hair. “I don’t have a condom, though.”

“That’s fine, I don't care,” you dismiss his words, eyes too focused on the flush cock in his hand. “I don’t think I’ll live after you kill me with that anyways.”

Deku laughs just a bit, his dimples flashing as he leans in and kisses you deeply. You tremble underneath him, feeling so small pressed up against him, and you mewl when you feel the head of his cock pressing between your folds.

“Put it in,” you gasp, leg lifting and wrapping around his waist, “put it in! I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk, do you understand?!”

Deku nods, and with a sense of frantic need, his hand guides his cock into you.

It feels like you’re splitting in half. The girth of his cock stretching your walls out to the max, and he’s only going in. You scream loudly, both in pain and pleasure because it hurts so good.

“Take it, baby, take me all in,” Deku pants, his hips pushing out small, tiny thrusts to ram his cock further and further into your twitching cunt. “That’s i-it, holy fuck, that’s it! You’re taking me all the way in. F-Fuck… you’re so amazing! So fucking perfect!”

Tears are pouring out of your eyes, and your nails are tearing into his back, you sob slightly overwhelmed with his cock and the absolute pleasure of finally getting what you want and it being so much better than you thought. Your cunt throbs almost violently as Deku’s cock finally hits your cervix and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he thrusts in further, lips attempting to claim yours. 

“Fuck me, Deku,” you beg, hips beginning to slam and fuck up onto his cock. “Please! I need you!”

“Such a desperate little villain though,” Deku sighs, teasingly, giving you one strong thrust for good measure. It goes a long way though, the power behind his thrust and thighs promising you a bruised ass, thighs, and cunt makes your mouth water for more. “I need you to promise to never do anything like that again and be a good little manager for Kacchan.”

“W-Wha–”

“Be good and stop being Mirage, or else you won’t be fucked.”

There was no hesitation.

“Okay.”

And just like that, Deku’s soft smile curves into a knowing, fierce smirk, and you can do nothing as his hands press to the back of your knees and he begins thrusting his hips into you. And it takes you completely out of control. 

It’s a messy, frantic dance, your body holding onto his, your lips pressing against his, desperate and needy for his, and he is basically trying to imprint his body onto yours, the concrete, and the walls. Your bodies are so foreign to each other, and yet, when he fucks into you just a bit hard, just a bit faster, you come undone, back arching and toes curling as you sob his name.

It’s overwhelming to know that he can read you this well and for you to have never fucked him before. It’s empowering to see that he likes every forced and involuntary squeeze and clench of your cunt. He loved when your nails dug into his skin, raking their existence against the plane of broad muscles and scars. 

Deku curses your name as you clench around him, his hands moving to your jaw so that he can lift your face to kiss him just so. He kisses you with a heated passion, a need that strips your entire being bare, and his hips slam so loudly against you, the slicked wetness is squelching and slapping with every grunt and moan.

In and out his cock goes, and you praise him and his cock.

You praise him for making you feel so good, for stretching out your pussy with that fat cock of his. You beg for more, and more, and more. You want every snap of his hips to send new colors to your vision, and every echoing squelch of your meeting, sloppy sexes only adds to the blabbering, unmanaged sentences from your lips. 

“Harder, faster, more!” you beg, practically wailing against his shoulders, needing him more and more. The concrete hurts against your back, but you don’t care. You don’t care if he breaks your back, it’s a fall you’ll take. “Don’t hold back! Don’t you dare hold back!”

“Fuck, you’re crazy,” Deku gasps, his sweaty brow burying into your cheek. “I won’t though, I won't. Be ready, I’m not sure if you can take it.”

Before you can snap back that you can in fact take it, Deku’s weight falls heavier onto you and the angle shifts just slightly, and your words are ripped right out of your throat for a pitched, window shattering screech. Deku fucks into you with a new power, some untapped strength as greenspark falls from his skin as he ruins you for anyone ever again.

Your voice begins to scream out, the feeling of his vicious, thick cock snapping into you, shoving your shoulders further and further into the concrete was sending your head spinning. Your body is convulsing as he fucks you with new vulgar need and strength. But before you could scream your praises, Deku’s fingers shove into your mouth, and his other hand wraps around your neck, silencing your words and noises as he fucks up into you again and again and again.

“So loud, angel,” Deku smirks, fingers stroking and pinching your tongue as saliva pours endlessly from your mouth. His voice isn’t strained however, doesn’t have any indication that he’s out of breath or ready to tap out and that nearly makes you go insane. “I can’t wait to see everything that makes you look like this… you’re so pretty when you’re getting fucked.”

Your head is spinning, the heated tightness in your core clenching and throbbing as his conquesting cock never once stops or lessens. It just grows and grows and grows. His cock twitches in you, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he lets out a deep moan. 

“Such a good and wet cunt you are,” Deku gasps as you gag against his fingers that press roughly against the back of your tongue. Your vision feels hazy, but you feel like you’re on cloud nine as his hand on your throat opens and closes, demonstrating his power over you. “I’m so glad you went through all this hard work to get me to fuck you.”

You can’t speak, so you nod desperately, you were so happy you did this too. 

Your hips buck up into him with sheer stubborn drive to get him to toss his head back and moan, you wanted to see him unhinged too. Your eyelashes flutter, as his hands remove themselves from your face, and they move to your hips to help you out. But the building tightness and demanding need in your cunt was growing louder, hotter, completely undeniable. Your teeth sinking against his skin as you whimpered loudly, absolutely pathetically as you shifted faster, fucking against him harder.

“I-I’m so close,” you manage to moan out, and a sharp escape of air comes from his nose at that revelation.

Deku nods, his head moving so that his forehead rests against yours as he looks deep into your eyes. “I need you to look at the way your belly bulges while I fuck you before you cum, I want you to watch it bulge as you cum.”

You whimper, the strain in your neck almost insufferable as you peer down at your hastily exposed stomach, and you nearly faint at the pornographic, near-insane image of your stomach bulging with his hammering monster of a cock. And just like that, the tight heat in you snaps without a hitch, and you come tumbling down from the heights of your building orgasm. White heat and light spread through your body, your jaw slacking as you moan loudly, screaming his name as you convulse against him, body entirely limp. Deku, who was barely hanging by a strand, completely loses it when your core clenches like a vice against him. 

Hot, thick ropes of cum spurt from his cock, his heavy, shaking gasps the only thing you can hear as he fucks into you once, twice more for good measure he collapses onto his forearms above you. It’s hot, almost too hot as he lays on top of you, the sticky fluid of his cum radiating against your already blazing walls, and for a bit, there’s silence.

Deku is the first to move afterward, and you whine as he pulls his cock out of your sore, abused pussy. You make a noise of curiosity then fear as Deku spreads your legs even more open and moves so that his head is face to face with your cum filled pussy.

“What are you–?!” you screech as Deku takes a lick out of your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, this does taste good,” Deku smirks as he once again licks your overstimulated pussy and you sob. “Besides, who said we were done?”

.

.

.

.

.

bonus! 

“Everyone, this is my girlfriend y/l/n y/n!” Izuku happily introduced you to his group of friends.

“What the hell?!” Bakugou screamed, thrusting a finger at you and all you did was laugh.

So much for not being stubborn, huh.

[crimsonophelia]

hello basil!!! i’m the anon that sent the original request of reader being a big dumb dumb and accidentally mailing their love letters to childe in liyue—i personally just wanted to tell you that i absolutely LOVED what you wrote and that i’m so happy and grateful you did my request justice. keep up the good work!!!

if you wouldn’t mind, could i request for a hurt/comfort angst with kaeya and a gn reader? the reader is a fellow knight of favonius that regularly gets dunked on by their friends for their crush on the cavalry captain—but every time their friends insist they confess to him, they joke that “sure, i’ll tell him when i die.” and then they actually nearly die.

while on a mission with kaeya, something terrible happens that seemingly pushes the reader to the brink of death. they’re in his arms and convinced they’re about to die, so with their “dying” breath, they tell kaeya that they’re in love with him before the world goes black.

but then they wake up. 👁 (you know the drill—what happens next is completely up to you!!!)

featuring: kaeya x gn!reader

warnings: good ol' angst, some descriptions of blood, lots of typos lol

published: may 27, 2021

form: imagine

a/n: hi anon!! i'm glad you liked that imagine www and thank you for sending me ideas again! you know how much i love angst and kaeya lol~ also please forgive me for making it so long, i tried to challenge my writing abilities a bit more.

You came into this mission knowing that it would be quite a bit more difficult than the ones you typically took on. You were merely a B-rank knight, working on your certification to reach A-rank status, which definitely was not an easy feat. Yet the open commission to investigate a newly-uncovered set of ruins in Dadaupa Gorge was requiring one more member of the dual-member expedition team. When you saw who had occupied the first position for the mission, you threw caution to the wind and signed your name for position two, despite the mission being ranked A-level, at the very least. The occupied position? Filled by none other than Kaeya Alberich, captain of the Knights of Favonius cavalry, S-rank soldier and swordsman, and your former mentor. Who also happened to be the man you had hopelessly fallen for. 

The mission was assigned by the headquarters of the Knights, specifically for fully-trained Knights only, as the nature of the mission would be too dangerous for your run-of-the-mill adventurer team, and the Knights did not want to be held accountable for any potential casualties or injuries as a result of a mission gone wrong. You and Kaeya had been assigned to go investigate a newly-uncovered set of ruins in the Whispering Woods, supposedly already showing signs of being an Abyss rendezvous point. Apparently, the team of archaeologists who uncovered the ancient rocks from behind a thicket of trees had had many difficulties even making it back to the city of Mondstadt alive. You were frightened, no doubt about it, but you also knew that this was your chance. Your chance to prove yourself and your capability as a knight. Back in your training days before you took the certification exam to become a knight, you were Kaeya’s favorite pupil, a star student. Also possessing a Cryo vision, like the captain himself, certainly did not hurt your reputation in his eyes. Now, having taken on and excelled at countless dangerous B-rank missions, you felt confident in your ability to take on a mere A-rank mission, especially with the captain of the cavalry at your side. 

You had almost forgotten about the icy presence at your side, lost in your own daydreams of ambition. After following the paths leading out of Mondstadt, weapons and supplies ready at hand, you and Kaeya had finally made it to the edge of the Whispering Woods. It was starting to get dark, even though the two of you had left reasonably early in the day. The woods seemed so much more vast when their shadows grew longer, waning by the last seams of daylight. Faint howling moaned through the leaves (”Wolves? In the Whispering Woods?”, you thought to yourself), and you felt yourself tremble in the slightest. You couldn’t tell if it was due to the fear or the overwhelmingly strong Cryo aura that Kaeya emitted.

The tall man seemed unaffected by the ominous surrounding, forever carrying himself with an unwavering assuredness. He looked onwards, into the woods, eyes darting back and forth, exhibiting the remarkable surveying skills of a seasoned knight. 

“Well, [y/n]”, Kaeya turned to you, with that smug yet rather comforting voice of his. “Are you ready?”

Kaeya’s unshakeable confidence was rather spiriting, you had to admit. Nothing like traipsing into a wild forest, overrun with archons-know-what, with only your own wits and a cunning, distractingly handsome knight to guide you. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose”, you replied, trying to hide the rookie anxiety from trembling your voice. Damn it, you weren’t even a rookie. You were one of the more experienced knights in the entire Knights of Favonius. You could handle this. Plus, Kaeya has your back. In all the years you had known him, Kaeya had never dropped that rogue-ish grin off of his delicate countenance--he had the face of a prince, but marred with the implications of his mysterious eyepatch (he had never told you how he had lost that eye) and the pierce of his sly smile. It made him all so painfully attractive. 

You hate to recall the very first day you met him, the two of you only teenagers, barely adults grown into their own skin, yet he stood at the front of the training yard like the prolific swordsman he was, tan skin gleaming beneath the summer sun, hair tied behind his neck, sinewy muscles stretching as he maneuvered the sword in his hand like it was an extension of his own being. That day, you swore that you would become like Kaeya, that you would learn all you possibly could from him. That was also the day you had fallen hopelessly for the charismatic boy, though you were not aware of it just yet. 

Trudging into the forest, you made sure to clutch the weapon at your side a little tighter, wary of any potential threats that could appear in front of you at any moment. You never know how much the Abyss mages could use their magic--they are always using the spirits of Teyvat for evil. Although you had only encountered Abyss mages a small handful of times in your past B-rank missions, you already knew how perilous an interaction with any of them could be. The last time you and a partner engaged with a Pyro mage, you left the site with severe magic burns to your side, which took at least three months to fully heal. Looking at Kaeya, he appeared to be as relaxed as ever, both hands loosely tucked into his pockets, his steps led by his elegant hips. The eerie silence of the woods didn’t seem to bother him at all, a comfortable void between the both of you.

“So, captain”, you begun, doing your best to break the proverbial ice a bit, trying not to let the emptiness of the whole forest get to your head. “How have you been? It’s been a while since we last took an assignment together, I believe. 3 months already, isn’t it?”

Kaeya chuckled. “Oh, drop the formalities, [y/n].” He looked at you with his singular, unobscured eye with a teasing glance. “You’ve always known me as just Kaeya, havent you?”

Blood rushed to your face, although not entirely unwelcome, due to the chilliness of the forest. You hoped that the twilight shadows could hide your red cheeks from the man beside you.

“To answer your question, I am doing exceptionally well, thank you”, he smirked. “Although, the last time I did see you was only about a month ago, at the Windblume Ball. Not sure if you remember it all though—you were rather... intoxicated, it seemed.”

Oh, archons. You didn’t know if your face could possivly get any redder from the embarassment. The Windblume Ball was a month prior, hosted by the Knights for all citizens of Mondstadt to attend, to end the Windblume Festival with a night of wine, music, and dancing. Your group of friends within the Knights convinced you to attend along with them, though they didnt quite succeed at convincing you to finally confess your attraction to the captain of the cavalry himself. You acquiesced only on the condition that you would not have to interact with Kaeya at all that night. The anxiety was simply too much and you did not want to deal with the potential situation of seeing Kaeya in formalwear and absolutely losing your mind, let alone Kaeya seeing you dancing and drinking.

“Oh, come on, [y/n]”, your friends had whined. “If you don’t tell him now, when will you ever? He most definitely finds you attractive, as well.” Chuckling, you took a sip of the wine lrovided by the Dawn Winery. You cringed at the sourness of cheap grapes. “I’ll tell him when I’m dead.” You took another sip of the wine, but over the rim of the glass, you saw the one person you were hell-bent on avoiding.

Kaeya Alberich stood across the room, talking to one of the other knights. He was dressed to the nines, in clothing you had never seen him don before. His hair was parted neatly, his long lovelock secured by a large sapphire band. His lean, upper body was covered by a three piece suit, fitted perfectly around his narrow waist, tailcoat resting neatly by his thick, carved thighs. His pants were pressed tightly, without a wrinkle, and he had brought along his usual white fur cape, giving him the sophisticated look of a king.

In awe, you spluttered in your drink as he caught your eye from across the room, clearly noticing you were staring at him. You turned the other way, seeing that your friends were making fun of your oblivious gawking, and they now excitedly pointed behind you, mouthing the words he’s coming! You tried your best to smooth down your hair and pat down your outfit, before turning back around to see that the captain was standing in front of you, face-to-face, with his hand outstretched.

He looked even more sparklingly glamorous up close, an image of old-world elegance that you never knew him capable of portraying. You suddenly felt more drunk than any cheap wine could possibly make you. Kaeya looked at you, a gleam in his eye, and asked

“May I have this dance, [y/n]?”

The rest of the night was a blur, what with your continued consumption of alcohol, convincing yourself you needed to periodically top up your liquid courage. Kaeya had asked you for a few more dances, as far as you remembered. But from what you could recall, he was just as elegant and charismatic as you had always remembered him to be. He never made you feel out of place.

It was awful that Kaeya only seemed to remember how disgustingly drunk you were, but you were thankful at least that he didn’t seem to recall the perpetual state of flusteredness you were in that night, by his mere presence beside you, and his hands guiding yours as you both danced to the upbeat music of the band.

“Archons, I assure you that I am not the unabashed drunkard I may have seemed to be that night”, you chuckled.

Kaeya let out a hearty laugh, his voice reminding you of the sounds of the bells ringing atop the Cathedral. “Of course not, my dear”, he drawled. “I’ve met many a drunkard in my day—you are far from one; I promise.”

You and Kaeya kept on your way in this manner, making pleasant small talk to fill the silence. You didn’t dare tell him for fear of seeming a coward, but hearing his voice and reminiscing with him diminished the fright you initially felt, entering the woods and taking on this assignment. Kaeya was a master conversationalist, and diplomat too, no doubt, always knowing what to say at what time. His warm remarks and playful banter took your mind off of the imminent danger of your situation, and you didn’t notice the path you were both on narrowing. The sun had already set, and the woods were doused in an eerie darkness, and as you and Kaeya approached the vicinity of the ruins, the thickets grew denser and the tree branches hung lower. Not a sound could be heard--

Until suddenly, Kaeya stepped in front of you, blocking your path with an arm outstretched. Shit. You smelled Abyss magic. How could you have possibly missed the putrid scent of sulfur before? 

Kaeya’s grin had fallen. His attention was now beyond only you, as if trying to detect something he sensed nearby. Out of nowhere, a hum grew, louder, until an earblasting pop rang out in front of you and Kaeya, and in its place were three Pyro Abyss mages. Three. You could handle one, if you had a partner with you, but three? 

Terror ran down your spine, knowing how difficult your Cryo vision could be against a Pyro mage. Your hand unsheathed the sword at your side with blinding speed, just like you were trained, but before you could even take a step forward, Kaeya was already charging at the mages, ice blasting forth from his swordtip, smashing up against the mages’ shields.

“Aren’t ya glad I caught that, [y/n]?” Kaeya teased, sword cutting through the air and the force fields surrounding the mages, as their strained groans pierced the night air. His movements were swift and effortless; at times his movements were so fast that it looked like he teleported from one spot to the next. This was the grace, the beauty of a true prodigy. “If I hadn’t stopped you, we would’ve been roast boar by now!” 

You jumped into action, assisting Kaeya with his assaults against the mages, doing your best to dodge the onslaught of fireballs. You felt the heat of the fire magic graze your extremities more than once, counting your blessings that it was nothing critical. The way the two of you moved in unison, one complementing the other, like an avalanche of piercing ice, was a testament to the years of experience you gained in under Kaeya’s expert tutelage. One sword piercing the left, the other the right, until you both had broken down two of the Pyro mages’ shields. You had never gotten through their force fields in such rapid succession before, you thought, in awe. Swinging your sword calculatedly, whilst utilizing your vision and shooting out ice crystals, you defeated the mage, dealing a killing blow, piercing its side with your sword. You watched the creature groan out gutturally, and eventually dissipate into ash, drifting away. 

Turning around, you noticed that Kaeya had already taken care of the other mage, already breaking down the final one’s shield. He dodged each blast of Pyro magic with grace and ease, not even showing any sign of fatigue. 

“Hey, good work rookie!”, Kaeya teased, activating his ultimate Cryo weapon, sending a halo of ice crystals about his body, knocking into the mage’s shield with every swing.

You huffed. “I’m not a rookie”, you called back, joining him in his siege upon the last enemy. Exhaustion was quickly catching up to you, although you tried to hide it. You couldn’t let Kaeya down. 

Over and over, the pair of you banged upon the force field with your swords, with more difficulty than any of the previous mages. This one was different, somewhat stronger. The grass surrounding the two of you was already lit up in flames, licking at your ankles. If you even so much as tripped, the heat would probably damage you more than a fireball could. 

“Watch out, rookie”, Kaeya yelled in your directions, trying to be heard above the cackling of the mage and the raging flames, already beginning to catch onto the trees nearby. The night was filled with a reddish glow--hellish and suffocating. “I think it’s about to activate it’s ultimate.”

The cackling grew louder, as you worked yourself into a frenzy, shooting more and more ice crystals, trying to break it’s force field. Three, dragon-like heads began to emerge around where the mage floated. Fuck. The fire-breathers were out. You had only ever fought a Pyro mage that could use fire-breathers once before--that also happened to be the instance that caused you to be an invalid for several months, healing from a deep flesh burn. But Kaeya was here this time. Things would be okay, right?

You could tell Kaeya was growing panicked as well, his swings becoming a bit more hurried and erratic. You didn’t know, but he was deathly worried about you. He had no idea how experienced you were with dodging the fire-breathers, and he knew he had to make quick work of the blasted mage before things could escalate, Archons forbid you get hurt. Kaeya activated his ultimate once more, and, finally, the mage’s shield broke. 

You heaved a sigh of relief, closing in on the Pyro mage. Kaeya’s strength and incredible reliability in battle did not fail to impress you, even beyond just the prowess he had demonstrated as a trainee and a mentor. You finally activated your own ultimate, summoning a boulder made of hard ice. Approaching the mage as you saw it struggle to get up off the ground, the ice in your boulder began to form, and you willed it to hurl towards the mage, intending to finish it off. Finally, you would show Kaeya your true strength, your capability. He could depend on you. Hell, you were his star student. Even if you were afraid to tell him about how he had stolen your heart, you could at least show him that the time and effort he had dedicated to you wasn’t for naught. 

The seconds slowed down, as the blinding white ice made its way through the air, aimed straight at the pathetic mage, groveling in the dirt. But beyond the ice, was something even brighter, not making its way to the mage; no, it was headed straight at you. A fireball. 

You felt an excruciating pain on your left side, right below your ribcage. A scream in the distance--the mage? No; it was Kaeya’s voice. The white-hot pain blinded you, as you felt your back make contact with the hard ground beneath you. Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit. Archons, what will Kaeya think? 

Vaguely willing your arm to press into your side to assess the damage, you felt warm, sticky liquid pooling on your waist. Lifting a hand, you saw it drenched in crimson blood, dark in the moonlight. You heard another scream again nearby, this time coming from the guttural squeaks you knew was the mage, the dying cries of a pitiful monster. At once, a pair of arms lifted you from the ground, supporting your head. What a damned disappointment you were. 

“[y/n]! [Y/N]! DAMMIT!” You had never heard Kaeya this worked up before. The pain of hearing the panic in his voice was also tinged with a selfish gladness that he cared, that Kaeya Alberich gave a damn if you died. Because, in that moment, you were certain you would die.

Straining out a chuckle, your chest racked up a wet cough, sticky blood now staining the edges of your lips. I’ll tell him when I’m dead, you once said. Well, isn’t this all quite ironic.

“Fucking hell, [y/n], I need you to keep your eyes open”, Kaeya commanded. He was using his captain voice, the one that only comes out when a new recruit wasn’t following orders. “Rookie, don’t you dare pass out on me.” His voice wavered.

Would it be worth it to tell him now? Did you want his last memory of you to be a pathetic, wishful fantasy spilling forth from your bloodstained lips, like the nonsense uttered by a mere child? Your vision spun faster, losing sight of Kaeya, hovering over you. You couldn’t make out his features too clearly in the darkness, but something about the wet drops of water landing on your cheeks told you that it wasnt more blood. You supposed that you should do yourself justice and at least keep the one promise you made that night in Mondstadt.

Straining to open your mouth, you uttered, “Kaeya, I—”

But before you could muster the strength to speak another word, your vision went dark.

*****

The first thing you heard when you woke up was the sound of birds chirping. The second was a silent snoring sound coming from somewhere to your right.

Cracking your weary eyes open, you sensed the faint light of the early morning coming in through an nearby window. Getting your bearings, you realized you had woken up in the Knights of Favonius headquarters hospital. Your damaged adventurer’s clothes were gone, and instead you could feel bandages dressed around the wound at your side. Oh, right. You thought you had died.

Trying to sit up, you fekt an excruciating pain burn through the side of your body that had been hit, setting your nerves on fire. You hissed, and the snoring beside you abruptly stopped.

“Archons, you’re awake.”

Kaeya sat up from the chair he had apparently been sleeping in, still dressed in his captain’s armor, just as dirt-covered and singed as when you last saw him. Was that only last night? You figured Kaeya must have hurried you back to the city before your condition could get any worse.

Fuck. As all your memories of the prior night came flooding back, your eyes pooled up with salty tears. Not only had you cone closest to death than you’ve ever had, you had completely disappointed Kaeya and made a fool of yourself in front of him.

“Kaeya, I’m so sorry—”, you started.

Your words were interrupted by the man next to you leaping into your embrace, arms wrapping your shoulders where you were not injured. “Dammit, [y/n]. When won’t you just shut up.” His voice was muffled by his face buried into your neck. “You don’t have to say a word.”

It scared you, seeing him vulnerable. The ever-cocky and cunning captain of the cavalry, the man who always had a plan and was never caught off-guard. Now, a man bearing his innermost emotions to you, little old you. Had he heard what you begun to tell him last night? Or were things going to return back to the way they were, you admiring his dazzling beauty from a distance, comfortable yet agonized at the degree of separation.

You hoped to the archons for the latter. You hoped that it wouldn’t take another instance where you almost lost your life for the love you felt for him to spill forth. Archons, even if you had to die, it would still all be worth it, if it were with him at your side.

Kaeya trembled as he pressed himself deeper into you, desperately clinging on. “Don’t you dare open your mouth, rookie”, he chided. “I don’t want to hear something you’ll only tell me when you’re almost gone. Please just let me do the talking.”

Pulling back, you looked at him in confusion. His hair was disheveled, eyepatch slightly askew, yet his face was full of an almost childlike wonder, akin to the gleam he possessed when you had first met him, however many years ago.

“Do you think I did it all for nothing?” Kaeya looked at you. “Do you think all those years of training together, eating together, soarring together, was all because I thought you had potential as a soldier? The private walks through Windrise, the nights spent at the tavern, the dance, that damned dance we shared—what did you think that was?” Desperate and exhausted, Kaeya’s eye began to shimmer with tears. “Fucking hell, [y/n]. I’ve always loved you. Since the very beginning, you idiot. Why else would I dedicate all my time, all my energy to you and only you?” He grasped your shoulders tighter. “If you think that I haven’t been madly in love with you since I first laid eyes upon you that day, then you’re fucking wrong.”

You cut him off, burying your hands into his hair—pain be damned—and kissed him. It was bitter and metallic, the taste of both of your blood on your tongue. Kaeya’s neck was ice cold, but his cracked lips were thick and warm, and when you pulled away from them, you suddenly felt like you could take on the world.

“Well”, you remarked. “I’m glad that we got that out of the way.”

a/n: uhuhuhu this is pretty long but i hope you like it! i wanted to improve my writing a bit and elaborate on descriptions a bit more, so i hope i did your request justice!

[minor-solemnity]

Table of Contents

One shots

Compasses - a short, fluffy hurt/comfort story wherein you find Tom brooding over existential questions about the future and his destiny.

Care - You’re work life balance is in shambles and Tom is less than impressed

We are Mosaics - Tom has rich friends and you need a holiday. Very self-indulgent fluff

Game Theory - Everything is a game, even when the rules are unofficial and no one is playing except you. Well, maybe Tom is, but that’s okay. He’s the most fun competition there is. Contains a fair bit of smutty goodness

Tender We Lay Bound - fluff and comfort (aka, my entire wheelhouse). You’re overwhelmed, emotions flying in the face of reason and Tom is there to bring you home.

Truth Will Out - Smut. Just like, very smutty - power dynamics, veritaserum as a sex toy? idk man

What Equates to Worship - Fluff and comfort. You’re all grown up and that’s pretty cool, except there’s a sad shadow in your bedroom and you should probably see if you can help 

The Dark Forest - Something follows you into the gloom of the forest. A shifting not-there being that lingers in the shadows. Featuring protective Tom being pretty fucking good at magic and a little bit scary because he cares.

Chaptered stories

Curiosity - Tom Riddle is smart, charming, and annoyingly persistent. You have a secret that he’s willing to go to great lengths to find out.  (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (completed)

Invention and Intrigue - slightly spooky (not really). You have more than a passing interest in dark magic. Seems like Tom Riddle has more than a passing interest in you. (1) (2) (3) (4) (completed)

Never Gonna Give (You Up) - Seven years is a long time to dislike someone. One evening is apparently enough time to make you question that hatred. (1) (2) (completed)

To be a Seer - Your gift is more of a curse. You have more questions than answers. All the while, Tom watches and wonders. (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7)

Dandelion and Burdock - Sickfic - you’re incapacitated by a manticore pup in a lesson gone wrong. Tom reacts accordingly. (1) (2) (3)

AO3

Necromancer, I love you - my baby. Slow burn Parvati/Tom. There’s necromancy, intrigue, and a lot of introspection. Parvati is a force to be reckoned with and Tom doesn’t like being dead. Updated every Sunday :) 

Upcoming stories

Time Lapses - You first see him when you are nine and he is ten. He looks at you with a solemnity that is out of place on his young features.

Rules of Engagement- More than anything else, you hate not getting what you want. And what you want right now is him.

An Epistolary Romance of Sorts - You’ve been leaving notes in the library books since you were in first year. Someone starts writing back.

Benediction - You graduate from Hogwarts with no concrete plans and wondering exactly what you’re going to do with your life. Things take a turn for the strange when Tom Riddle, a man three years your senior makes an unexpected stop in the book shop you’ve found yourself working at.

In Silence we are Reformed - AU - Erotic ghost story because I can and I will!

This Quiet Moment Makes - fluff&hurt/comfort! Adulthood is not the fun adventure you imagined it would be, but there is joy to be found in quiet of morning and the softness of your shared bed.

[shirbertshitposts]

10 Shirbert Moments from Anne of Green Gables series I think about a lot

In honor of Valentines Day I thought I would post a list of some of my favorite Anne and Gilbert moments. It was hard to narrow it to just ten as I have been going through all nine books and trying to queue posts about all their iconic moments through the series; However I decided to pick the ones that I remember even when I haven’t read the books in a while. I didn’t have the heart to rank them properly so they’re just listed in chronological order.

1. His future must be worthy of its goddess

In the twilight Anne sauntered down to the Dryad’s Bubble and saw Gilbert Blythe coming down through the dusky Haunted Wood. She had a sudden realization that Gilbert was a schoolboy no longer. And how manly he looked—the tall, frank-faced fellow, with the clear, straightforward eyes and the broad shoulders. Anne thought Gilbert was a very handsome lad, even though he didn’t look at all like her ideal man. She and Diana had long ago decided what kind of a man they admired and their tastes seemed exactly similar. He must be very tall and distinguished looking, with melancholy, inscrutable eyes, and a melting, sympathetic voice. There was nothing either melancholy or inscrutable in Gilbert’s physiognomy, but of course that didn’t matter in friendship!

Gilbert stretched himself out on the ferns beside the Bubble and looked approvingly at Anne. If Gilbert had been asked to describe his ideal woman the description would have answered point for point to Anne, even to those seven tiny freckles whose obnoxious presence still continued to vex her soul. Gilbert was as yet little more than a boy; but a boy has his dreams as have others, and in Gilbert’s future there was always a girl with big, limpid gray eyes, and a face as fine and delicate as a flower. He had made up his mind, also, that his future must be worthy of its goddess. Even in quiet Avonlea there were temptations to be met and faced. White Sands youth were a rather “fast” set, and Gilbert was popular wherever he went. But he meant to keep himself worthy of Anne’s friendship and perhaps some distant day her love; and he watched over word and thought and deed as jealously as if her clear eyes were to pass in judgment on it. She held over him the unconscious influence that every girl, whose ideals are high and pure, wields over her friends; an influence which would endure as long as she was faithful to those ideals and which she would as certainly lose if she were ever false to them. In Gilbert’s eyes Anne’s greatest charm was the fact that she never stooped to the petty practices of so many of the Avonlea girls—the small jealousies, the little deceits and rivalries, the palpable bids for favor. Anne held herself apart from all this, not consciously or of design, but simply because anything of the sort was utterly foreign to her transparent, impulsive nature, crystal clear in its motives and aspirations.

-- Chapter XIX, Anne of Avonlea

2. For the first time her eyes faltered under Gilbert’s gaze

“What are you thinking of, Anne?” asked Gilbert, coming down the walk. He had left his horse and buggy out at the road.

“Of Miss Lavendar and Mr. Irving,” answered Anne dreamily. “Isn’t it beautiful to think how everything has turned out . . . how they have come together again after all the years of separation and misunderstanding?”

“Yes, it’s beautiful,” said Gilbert, looking steadily down into Anne’s uplifted face, “but wouldn’t it have been more beautiful still, Anne, if there had been NO separation or misunderstanding . . . if they had come hand in hand all the way through life, with no memories behind them but those which belonged to each other?”

For a moment Anne’s heart fluttered queerly and for the first time her eyes faltered under Gilbert’s gaze and a rosy flush stained the paleness of her face. It was as if a veil that had hung before her inner consciousness had been lifted, giving to her view a revelation of unsuspected feelings and realities. Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down; perhaps it crept to one’s side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music, perhaps . . . perhaps . . . love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath.

Then the veil dropped again; but the Anne who walked up the dark lane was not quite the same Anne who had driven gaily down it the evening before. The page of girlhood had been turned, as by an unseen finger, and the page of womanhood was before her with all its charm and mystery, its pain and gladness.

Gilbert wisely said nothing more; but in his silence he read the history of the next four years in the light of Anne’s remembered blush. Four years of earnest, happy work . . . and then the guerdon of a useful knowledge gained and a sweet heart won.

-- Chapter XXX, Anne of Avonlea

3. I just want YOU

“I have a dream,” he said slowly. “I persist in dreaming it, although it has often seemed to me that it could never come true. I dream of a home with a hearth-fire in it, a cat and dog, the footsteps of friends—and YOU!”

Anne wanted to speak but she could find no words. Happiness was breaking over her like a wave. It almost frightened her.

“I asked you a question over two years ago, Anne. If I ask it again today will you give me a different answer?”

Still Anne could not speak. But she lifted her eyes, shining with all the love-rapture of countless generations, and looked into his for a moment. He wanted no other answer.

They lingered in the old garden until twilight, sweet as dusk in Eden must have been, crept over it. There was so much to talk over and recall—things said and done and heard and thought and felt and misunderstood.

“I thought you loved Christine Stuart,” Anne told him, as reproachfully as if she had not given him every reason to suppose that she loved Roy Gardner.

Gilbert laughed boyishly.

“Christine was engaged to somebody in her home town. I knew it and she knew I knew it. When her brother graduated he told me his sister was coming to Kingsport the next winter to take music, and asked me if I would look after her a bit, as she knew no one and would be very lonely. So I did. And then I liked Christine for her own sake. She is one of the nicest girls I’ve ever known. I knew college gossip credited us with being in love with each other. I didn’t care. Nothing mattered much to me for a time there, after you told me you could never love me, Anne. There was nobody else—there never could be anybody else for me but you. I’ve loved you ever since that day you broke your slate over my head in school.”

“I don’t see how you could keep on loving me when I was such a little fool,” said Anne.

“Well, I tried to stop,” said Gilbert frankly, “not because I thought you what you call yourself, but because I felt sure there was no chance for me after Gardner came on the scene. But I couldn’t—and I can’t tell you, either, what it’s meant to me these two years to believe you were going to marry him, and be told every week by some busybody that your engagement was on the point of being announced. I believed it until one blessed day when I was sitting up after the fever. I got a letter from Phil Gordon—Phil Blake, rather—in which she told me there was really nothing between you and Roy, and advised me to ‘try again.’ Well, the doctor was amazed at my rapid recovery after that.”

Anne laughed—then shivered.

“I can never forget the night I thought you were dying, Gilbert. Oh, I knew—I KNEW then—and I thought it was too late.”

“But it wasn’t, sweetheart. Oh, Anne, this makes up for everything, doesn’t it? Let’s resolve to keep this day sacred to perfect beauty all our lives for the gift it has given us.”

“It’s the birthday of our happiness,” said Anne softly. “I’ve always loved this old garden of Hester Gray’s, and now it will be dearer than ever.”

“But I’ll have to ask you to wait a long time, Anne,” said Gilbert sadly. “It will be three years before I’ll finish my medical course. And even then there will be no diamond sunbursts and marble halls.”

Anne laughed.

“I don’t want sunbursts and marble halls. I just want YOU. You see I’m quite as shameless as Phil about it. Sunbursts and marble halls may be all very well, but there is more ‘scope for imagination’ without them. And as for the waiting, that doesn’t matter. We’ll just be happy, waiting and working for each other—and dreaming. Oh, dreams will be very sweet now.”

Gilbert drew her close to him and kissed her. Then they walked home together in the dusk, crowned king and queen in the bridal realm of love, along winding paths fringed with the sweetest flowers that ever bloomed, and over haunted meadows where winds of hope and memory blew.

-- Chapter XLI, Anne of the Island

4. Gilbert, I'm afraid I'm scandalously in love with you.

"Gilbert darling, don't let's ever be afraid of things. It's such dreadful slavery. Let's be daring and adventurous and expectant. Let's dance to meet life and all it can bring to us, even if it brings scads of trouble and typhoid and twins!"

Today has been a day dropped out of June into April. The snow is all gone and the fawn meadows and golden hills just sing of spring. I know I heard Pan piping in the little green hollow in my maple bush and my Storm King was bannered with the airiest of purple hazes. We've had a great deal of rain lately and I've loved sitting in my tower in the still, wet hours of the spring twilights. But tonight is a gusty, hurrying night . . . even the clouds racing over the sky are in a hurry and the moonlight that gushes out between them is in a hurry to flood the world.

"Suppose, Gilbert, we were walking hand in hand down one of the long roads in Avonlea tonight!"

Gilbert, I'm afraid I'm scandalously in love with you. You don't think it's irreverent, do you? But then, you're not a minister."

-- Chapter 9, Anne of Windy Poplars

5. Suitable Places

"(Are you sure you kiss me in suitable places, Gilbert? I'm afraid Mrs. Gibson would think the nape of the neck, for instance, most unsuitable.)”

-- Chapter 12, Anne of Windy Poplars

6. He narrowly escaped bursting with pride

"Anne, this is Captain Boyd. Captain Boyd, my wife."

It was the first time Gilbert had said "my wife" to anybody but Anne, and he narrowly escaped bursting with the pride of it. The old captain held out a sinewy hand to Anne; they smiled at each other and were friends from that moment. Kindred spirit flashed recognition to kindred spirit.

-- Chapter 6, Anne’s House of Dreams

7. Queen of my heart and life and home

"Gilbert, would you like my hair better if it were like Leslie's?" she asked wistfully.

"I wouldn't have your hair any color but just what it is for the world," said Gilbert, with one or two convincing accompaniments.

You wouldn't be ANNE if you had golden hair—or hair of any color but"—

"Red," said Anne, with gloomy satisfaction.

"Yes, red—to give warmth to that milk-white skin and those shining gray-green eyes of yours. Golden hair wouldn't suit you at all Queen Anne—MY Queen Anne—queen of my heart and life and home."

"Then you may admire Leslie's all you like," said Anne magnanimously.”

-Chapter 12, Anne’s House of Dreams

8.  Annest of Annes

But the best of all was when Gilbert came to her, as she stood at her window, watching a fog creeping in from the sea, over the moonlit dunes and the harbour, right into the long narrow valley upon which Ingleside looked down and in which nestled the village of Glen St. Mary.

"To come back at the end of a hard day and find you! Are you happy, Annest of Annes?"

"Happy!" Anne bent to sniff a vaseful of apple blossoms Jem had set on her dressing-table. She felt surrounded and encompassed by love. "Gilbert dear, it's been lovely to be Anne of Green Gables again for a week, but it's a hundred times lovelier to come back and be Anne of Ingleside."

-- Chapter 3, Anne of Ingleside

9. I couldn’t live without you

Anne felt like a released bird . . . she was flying again. Gilbert's arms were around her . . . his eyes were looking into hers in the moonlight.

"You do love me, Gilbert? I'm not just a habit with you? You haven't said you loved me for so long."

"My dear, dear love! I didn't think you needed words to know that. I couldn't live without you. Always you give me strength. There's a verse somewhere in the Bible that is meant for you . . . 'She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life.'"

Life which had seemed so grey and foolish a few moments before was golden and rose and splendidly rainbowed again. The diamond pendant slipped to the floor, unheeded for the moment. It was beautiful . . . but there were so many things lovelier . . . confidence and peace and delightful work . . . laughter and kindness . . . that old safe feeling of a sure love.

"Oh, if we could keep this moment for ever, Gilbert!"

"We're going to have some moments. It's time we had a second honeymoon. Anne, there's going to be a big medical congress in London next February. We're going to it . . . and after it we'll see a bit of the Old World. There's a holiday coming to us. We'll be nothing but lovers again . . . it will be just like being married over again. You haven't been like yourself for a long time. ("So he had noticed.") You're tired and overworked . . . you need a change. ("You too, dearest. I've been so horribly blind.") I'm not going to have it cast up to me that doctors' wives never get a pill. We'll come back rested and fresh, with our sense of humour completely restored. Well, try your pendant on and let's get to bed. I'm half dead for sleep . . . haven't had a decent night's sleep for weeks, what with twins and worry over Mrs. Garrow."

--Chapter 41, Anne of Ingleside

10. Old love light

DR. BLYTHE:- “The old, old love light that was kindled so many years ago in Avonlea ... and burns yet, Anne ... at least for me.” 

ANNE:- “And for me, too. And will burn forever, Gilbert.” 

-- Page 189, The Blythes Are Quoted

Feel free to respond to this post with any of your favorite shirbert moments that I missed!